FALLS    OF    STE.    ANNE. 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE 
AND  CHARACTER 


WITH    HISTORICAL    AND    DESCRIPTIVE    SKETCHES    OF 

THE  SCENERY  AND   LIFE   IN   QUEBEC,  MONTREAL, 

OTTAWA,  AND  SURROUNDING   COUNTRY 


EDITED  BY 

GEORGE  MUNRO  GRANT,  D.  D. 


t  queen's   university,  KINGSTON,  ONT. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  WOOD-ENGRAVINGS  FROM  ORIGINAL   DRAWINGS 
BY  F.  B.  SCHELL,   L.  R.  O'BRIEN,  W.  T.  SMEDLEY,  T.  MORAN, 

G.  GIBSON,  AND  OTHERS 


I 


CHICAGO 
ALEXANDER   BELFORD   &  CO. 

1899 


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252  0  gj 


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CorvKHiirr,  1S99 
Bv  alexani)i:k  IJELKORD  &•  CO. 


CONTENTS 


FRKNCII-CANAIMAN   LIFE   AND    CIIARACTP:R 

Hy  J.  G.  A.  CRKICHTdX,   M.  A. 

QUEBEC— HISTORICAL  AM)    DESCRIl'TIVE 

By  PRIN'CIPAL  GRANT,  D.I).,  and  .MISS  A.  M.  MACHAR 


SOUTHEA.STERN  OUEHEC 


By  J.  HOWARD  HrXIKR,  M.A. 


MONTREAL 


By  REV.  A.  J.   BRAY  and  JOHX   LKSBKRANCK,  M.  R.  S.  C. 


THE    LOWER   Oi  TAWA 

By  R.  VASHON  ROGERS,  B.  A.,  and  C.  P.   MCLVANEY.  M.A. 


OTI'AWA 


Till';   UPPER   OTTAWA 


By   F.  A.   DIXOX 


hy  C.  P.   MULVAXKY,  M.A. 


PAGK 
9 


51 


'39 


179 


2C0 


-3i 


AND   CUARACTHR 


►V/vt/vriiti., 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER. 


**  TF   you    have   never  visited  the  C6te  de  Beaupre,  you  know  neither  Canada  nor  the 
■*■     Canadians,"  says  the  Abbe  Ferland. 

The  beautiful  strip  of   country    that    borders  the  St.   Lawrence  for  a  score  or  so  of 
miles  below  the  Falls  of   Montmorency  does,  indeed,  afford  the  best  possible  illustration 
of   the    scenery,  the    life,  and    the    manners    of   the    Province    of    Quebec,   the  people    of 
which,  not  content  with  naming  the  Dominion,  claim  Canada  and  Canadian  as   designa- 
tions peculiarly  their  own.     All  that  is  lovely  in  landscape  is  to  be    found    there.       The 
broad    sweep  of  "  the  great    river  of    Canada,"  between    the  ramparts  of  Cape  Diamond 
and  the  forest-crowned  crest  of  Cap  Tourmente,  is  fringed  with  rich    meadows  rising  in 
terraces  of  verdure,  slope  after  slope,   to  the  foot  of    the    sombre    hills    that  wall    in    the 
vast  amphitheatre.       In  the  foreground  the  north  channel,   hemmed  in  by  the  bold  cliffs       f 
of   the   Island  of  Orleans,  sparkles  in   the  sun.       Far    away    across  the  Traverse,  as    you     / 
look    between    the   tonsured  head  of    Petit  Cap  and    the   point  of   Orleans,  a   cluster   of   .' 
low  islands  breaks  the  broad  expanse    of   the    main    stream,  the   brilliant  blue   of   which 


^ 


lO 


FREXClf  C '.  IX.  I/)/.  IX   LIFE 


GATHKKINCi     MARSH     HAY. 


melts  on   the  distant  horizon   into  the  hardly  purer  azure  of   the  sky. 
with  swellin''-  can\as,   make    their  slow    wa\-.  or  Kinsjr 
hijrh    on    the    flats    await    their    carsj^o.      Stately  ships 
^t^lide  down  with   the    favourini;  tide,   or  an- 
nounce the  near  end  of  the  voyag'e  by  siir- 
nals  to    th(.:  shore    and    Liuns  that   roll    loud  -     ? 

thunder    through    the    hills.      The    marshes, 


Ouaint    battcanx. 


LOADING    A     HATTKAU    AT     LOW    TIDE. 


.LV/f   Cll.lRACrr.R 


TI 


CAP     TOLKMKNTK     AM)     I'KUT     CAP. 

cov(;red  with  rich  L^rass,  are  stucUh^'il  with  haymakt'rs  i^fatheririL,^  the  abundant  yield, 
or  are  dotted  with  cattle.  Inland,  stiff  poplars  and  bosky  elms  trace  out  the  long 
brown  ribands  of  the  roads.  Here  and  there  the  white  cottages  group  closer  together, 
and  the  spire  of  the  overshadowing  church  topping  the  trees,  marks  the  centre  of 
a  |)arish.  Red  roofs  and  glistening  domes  tlash  out  in  brilliant  points  of  colour 
against  the  fleecy  clouds  that  ileck  the  summer  sky.  Rich  pastures,  waving  grain, 
orchards  and  maple  groves,  lead  the  eye  back  among  th(!ir  softly-blending  tints  to  the 
dark  masses  of  purple  and  green  with  which  the  forests  clothe  the  mountains.  Huge 
rifts,  in  which  sunlight  and  shadow  work  rare  effects,  reveal  where  imprisoned 
streams  burst  their  way  through  the  Laurentian  rocks  in  successions  of  magnificent 
cascade's.  A  glimpse  of  white  far  up  the  mountain  side  shows  one  of  these,  while  its 
placid  course  through  the  lowland  is  marked  in  silver  sheen.  As  the  sun  gets  icnv.  oiie 
perchance  catches  the  flash  reflected  from  some  of  the  lovely  lakes  that  lie  among 
the  hills. 

The  Cote  de  Heau])re  is  th(!  oldest  as  well  as  the  fairest  part  of  the  Province.  It 
was  settled  soon  after  Champlain  landed,  the  rich  marsh  hay  being  utilized  at  onc(;  for 
the  wants  of  Quebec.  In  i6_?3  a  fort  was  built  at  Petit  Cap,  the  summit  of  the  pro- 
monotor)-  that  juts  out  into  the  river  under  the  o\ershadowing  height  of  Cap  Tourmente. 
The  fort  was  destroyed  by  Sir  David  Kirk — Admiral,  the  chroniclers  call  him — in  these 
days  he  would  probably  be  hanged  as  a  buccaneer — who  harried  the  cattle  and  then 
sailed  on  to  summon  Quebec  to  surrender  for  the  first  time.  In  1670  Laval  established 
here  a  school  for  training  boys  as  well  in  farming  and  mechanics,  as  in  doctrine  and 
discipline.       Among    other    industries,    wood-carving    for   church    decoration    was    taught, 


^ 


12 


FRENCH  CANAIUAX  LIFIi 


so  that  the  Cdte  dc  Bcaupre  can  lay  claim  to  the  first  Art  School  ind  the  first 
model-farm  in  America.  The  Quebec  Seminary  still  keeps  up  this  state  of  things — 
at  least  as  far  as  ajj^riculture  is  concerned.  The  place  is  known  as  "  The  Priests'  I-'arm," 
and  supplies  the  Seminary,  beinjjf  thoroughly  worked  and  having  much  attention  given 
to  it.     It  is  also  a  summer  resort  for  the  professors  and  pupils  of  the  Seminary. 

After  the  restoration  of  Canada  to  I'Vance  by  the  Treaty  of  St.  Germain-en-Laye, 
in  1632,  this  part  of  the  little  colony  grew  apace,  so  that  by  the  time  the  seigniory 
passed  into  Laval's  hands,  from  whom  it  came  to  its  present  owners — the  Seminary — 
its  population,  notwithstanding  its  exposure  to 
attack  by  the  Iroquois,  was  greater  than  that 
of  Quebec  itself.  From  its  situation  it  has 
been  less  vulnerable  than  many  other  districts 
to  outside  influences.  The  face  of  the  country 
and  the  character  of  the  people  have  yielded 
less  to  modern  ideas,  which,  working  quietly 
and  imperceptibly,  have  left  intact  many  of 
the  antiquities,  traditions  and  customs  that 
have  disappeared  elsewhere  within  the  last 
generation.  Here  you  may  find  families  liv- 
ing on  the  lands  their  forefathers  took  in 
feudal  tenure  from  the  first  seigneurs  of  La 
Nouvelle  France.  What  Ferland  says  is  still 
to  a  great  extent  true:  "In  the  habitant  of 
the  Cdte  de  Beaupre  you  have  the  Norman 
peasant  of  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.,  with  his 
legends,  his  songs,  his  superstitions  and  his  customs."  He  is  not  so  benighted  as 
many  people  think  he  is,  but  here  and  there  you  will  come  across  a  genuine  survival 
of  the  Old  Regime,  and  may,  perhaps,  meet  some  gray-capoted,  fur-capped,  brown-visaged, 
shrivelled-up  old  man,  whose  language  and  ideas  make  you  think  a  veritable  Breton 
or  Norman  of  the  century  before  last  has  been  weather-beaten  and  smoke-dried  into 
perpetual  preservation. 

All  the  world  over  your  rustic  is  conservative.  The  old  gods  lived  long  among 
the  Italian  villagers,  though  Rome  was  the  centre  of  the  new  faith.  Among  the 
liabitans  of  the  Province  of  Quebec  there  yet  exist  a  mode  of  life  and  cast  of  thought 
strangely  in  contrast  with  their  surroundings.  In  the  cities  a  rapid  process  of  assimi 
lation  is  going  on.  Quaint  and  foreign  though  Montreal,  and  especially  Quebec,  seen' 
to  the  stranger  at  first  "ght,  their  interest  is  mainly  historical  and  political.  To  under 
stand  the  national  life  of   Lower  Canada,   you  must  go  among  the  habitans. 

The  word  is  peculiarly   French-Canadian.     The  paysan,  or  peasant,   never  existed  ir 


AN     OLD     HABITANT. 


AXD   CHARACTER  J3 

Canada,  for  the  feudalism  established  by  Louis  XIV.  did  not  imply  any  personal  depend- 
ence upon  the  seigneur,  nor,  in  fact,  any  real  social  inferiority.  Each  censitairc  was,  in 
all  but  name,  virtually  as  independent  a  proprietor  as  is  his  descendant  to-day.  He 
was  and  he  is  emphatically  the  dweller  in  the  land.  He  "went  up  and  saw  the  land 
that  it  was  good,"  possessed  it,  and  dwells  therein.  The  term  is  often  used  as  equiva- 
lent to  cuUivatcur,  or  farmer,  and  as  distinguishing  the  rural  from  the  urban  population  ; 
but,  rightly  understood  and  used  as  he  uses  it,  nothing  more  forcibly  expresses 
both  the  origin  and  nature  of  the  attachment  of  the  French  -  Canadian  to  his 
country  and  the  tenacity  with  which  he  clings  to  his  nationality,  his  religion  and  his 
language. 

The  persistency  of  French  nationality  in  Canada  is  remarkable.  The  formal  guar- 
antees of  the  Treaty  of  Paris  and  the  Quebec  Act,  that  language,  religion  and  laws 
should  be  preserved,  undoubtedly  saved  it  from  extinction  by  conquest.  But  to  the 
difference  in  character  between  the  French  and  English,  which  is  so  radical  and  has  been 
so  sedulously  fostered  by  every  possible  means,  not  the  least  effective  being  an  able  and 
vigorous  literature  which  preserves  and  cultivates  the  French  language  ;  to  the  political 
freedom  which  allowed  the  realization  of  the  early  perception  that  as  individuals  they 
would  b^  without  influence,  as  a  body  all-powerful  ;  to  the  inherent  merits  of  their  civil 
law,  the  direct  descendant  of  a  jurisprudence  which  was  a  refined  science  centuries  be- 
fore Christ  ;  and  to  the  ideal  of  becoming  the  representatives  of  Roman  Catholicism 
in  America,  must  be  mainly  ascribed  the  vitality  that  the  French-Canadians  have  shown 
as  a  distinct  people.  Their  numerical  and  physical  condition  will  be  dealt  with  later  on, 
but  it  may  be  said  here  that  a  great  deal  is  also  due  to  their  origin.  The  hardy  sailors 
of  Normandy  and  Bretagne ;  the  sturdy  farmers  of  Anjou,  Poitou,  Le  Perche,  Aunis, 
Saintonge  and  L'lle-de-France  ;  the  soldiers  of  the  Carignan  regiment  who  had  fought  on 
every  battle-field  in  Europe,  brought  with  them  to  Canada  the  spirit  of  adventure,  the 
endurance,  the  bravery — in  short,  all  the  qualities  that  go  to  make  successful  colonists, 
and  that  they  inherited  from  the  same  source  as  does  the  Englishman.  In  the  United 
States,  the  second  or  third  generation  finds  other  immigrants  completely  fused  into  the 
common  citizenship,  but  the  little  French-Canadian  colonies  in  the  manufacturing  towns 
of  New  England  and  in  the  wheat  regions  of  the  West,  keep  their  language,  and,  to  a 
great    extent,  their  customs.      Canada  was    a    true    colony,  and    has    remained    the  most 

successful   French  attempt  at  colonization.      From  various  causes,   Louisiana  has  failed  to 

I 

keep  her  nationality  intact.  In  Lower  Canada,  the  spirit  of  Champlain  and  La  Salle, 
of  the  coureurs  dc  bots,  of  the  Iroquois-haunted  settlers  on  the  narrow  fringe  of  strag- 
gling farms  along  the  St  Lawrence — the  spirit  that  kept  up  the  fight  for  the  Fleiirs  de 
Lis  long  after  "  the  few  acres  of  snow  "  had  been  abandoned  by  their  King — has  always 
^^emained  the  same,  and  still  animates  the  colons  in  the  backwoods.  The  French-Cana- 
|ians  have   always    fought    for  a    faith  and    an    idea,  hence    they  have  remained  French. 


14 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE 


4  EDmCcmnC: 


As  one  of  their  most   celebrated   French  orators    pointed  out   at    the    fjreat  national  fete 

of    St.    Jean    liaptiste    at    Quebec    in     1880,    that    was    the    secret    of    it  all;    while    the 

Thirteen    Colonies,  which    fought    for    material 
interests,  are  American,   not   English. 

Whatever  the  cause,  there  is  no  doubt  as 
to  the  fact  of  French  nationality.  The  north 
shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence  is  more-  i-rench 
than  is  the  south,  where  tlie  proximity  of  the 
Unit(xl  States  and  the  inlluenc(;  of  the  Fnglish- 
settled  eastern  townships  are  sensible.  In  the 
western  part  of  the  Province,  the  numericjil 
proportion  of  French  is  smaller  and  their  char- 
acteristics are  less  marked  ;  but  from  Montreal 
downwards — the  towns  of  course  excepted — nou 
are  to  all  intents  in  a  land  where  English  is 
not  spoken.  Below  Quebec,  far  down  to  the 
Labrador  coast,  is  the  most  purely  French  por- 
tion of  all.  Vou  may  find  greater  simplicity 
of  life,  and  more  of  the  old  customs,  in  such  a 
primaival  parish  as  Isle  aux  Coudres,  farther 
down  the  river  ;    the  people  on   the  coast  where 

the  St.  Lawrence  becomes  the  gulf,  are  sailors  ami   fishermen  rather  than   farmers;  those 

along  the  Ottawa  are  lumberers  and   raftsmen  ;  but   the  Cote 

de   Beaupre  is  fairly  typical   of  the  whole  of  French-Canada.  T 

The     names    of     its     five    parishes,     L'Ange 

Gardien,     Chateau      Richer,     Sainte     Anne     de 

Beaupre,  St.  Joachim,  and  St. 

Fereol,    tell    you    at  once    you 

are  in  a    land    with    a  religion 

and   a  history.      Nothing,    per- 
haps, strikes   a    stranger    more 

than   the    significant  nomencla- 
ture of    the   Province.       Every 

village  speaks  the  faith  of  the 

people.    He  Jesus,  .Sainte  P'oye, 

L'Assomption,  L'P2piphanie,  .St. 

Joseph,  Ste.  Croix,   .Sle.   Anne, 

St.    Barthelemi,    St.    Plustache, 

Notre    Dame    des    Anges,    are 


HABITANT     A.ND     SNOW-SHOES. 


L'ANGE    (JAKUIEN. 


■w     'M,-^- 


AX/)   CHARACTER  '■  i5 

not  mere  designations.  The  pious  commemorations  and  joyful  celebrations  of  the 
patron  saint  or  particular  festival  show  it.  Hills,  rivers  and  lakes  tell  of  military 
achievements,  of  missionary  voyages,  of  dangers  encountered,  of  rest  after  peril  past, 
of  the  hojjcs  that  animated  the  voya^^cnrs  pushing  through  the  maze  of  forest  and 
stream  in  search  of  the  golden  West,  of  grand  prospects  and  lovely  landscapes,  of 
quaint  semblances  and  fond  reminiscence  of  home.  Take  just  a  few  of  these  names : 
Calumet.  Sault  au  Recollet,  Belange,  Carillon,  Chaudiere,  Pointe  aux  Trembles,  Bout 
de  L'lle,  Lachine,  Portage  du  Port,  Beaupre,  BeUtil,  La  Lievre,  La  Rose,  Chute 
au  Bloiuleau,  Riviere  Ouelle,  Riviere  au  Chien,  Montreal,  Quebec,  Joliette,  Beauport. 
Each  suggests  a  story  of  its  own  ;  most  of  them  have  their  associations  of  history 
and  tradition,  and  there  are  thousands  like  them.  The  French  knew  how  to  name  a 
country.  In  point  of  i)eaut\-  ami  significance,  their  names  are  unequalled  ;  and  they  not 
onl\'  descriiietl  th(,'  land  as  do  the  Indians — they  literally  christened  it.  I*lven  where  it 
comes  to  iHM-petuating  the  memories  of  men,  what  a  sonorous  ring  there  is  about  Cham- 
plain,  Richelieu,  Sore],  Chambly,  Varennes,  Contrecnjur,  Longueuil  ami  Beauharnois, 
unapproachaI)le  b\-  b^nglish  analogues.  Point  Levis  is,  in  truth,  not  a  whit  more  iX-sthe- 
X\(t  than  Smith's  P'alls,  nor  more  useful,  but  there  is  no  dt:nying  its  superiority  of  sound. 
When  you  know  the  grotesque  and  haughty  legend  that  represents  the  X'irgin  JMary  in 
heaven  telling  a  Chevalier  de  Levis,  "Cousin,  keep  on  your  hat,"  )ou  can  no  longer 
compare  the  two  names,  for  you  (juite  understand  why  the  Le\is  family  should  have  a 
Point  as  well  as  an   Ark  of  its  own. 

-■s 

L'Ang(;  Ciardien  lies  just  beyond  the  famous  Falls  of  Montmorency.      Set  in  trees  on 

^  the  slope  of  the  hills,   which   here  grow  close  on   the    river^  and    standing    high   o\er  the 

_   norlli  channel,  the  \illage  commands  an   extjuisite  \iew,  the  placitl   ])eaut)-  of  which   makes 

"The  Guardian  Angel"  a  most    appropriate  name.     The  spot  has  not    always  had  such 

.••peaceful    associations.'    Wolfe's    troops,    thos'j    "  P'raser's    Highlanders"    who    afterwards 

turned    their  swords  into    ploughshares    so    effectually  that    their  descendants  at   Murray 

Ba>-    ami     Kamouraska    are    P'rench    even    to    ha\ing    forgotten    their    fathers'    lanLniaee, 

ravaged  this  jnirish    and   Chateau    Richer  from    one    end    to  the  other,   destroyed  all  the 

.^0rops,  and  burned  almost  every  house.     There  is  little  trace  of  the  devastation  now,  ex- 

.  cept    in    the    stories    that    old  Iiabitans  have    heard    their  elders    tell.       Two  quaint    little 

'^apels    stand    one   on    each  side,   a    few    arpcns    from    the    parish    church.       'Phey  were 

.originall}-  intended  for  mortuary  chapels  during  the  winter,  when  the  frost  [)revents  graves 

being  dug,  and  for    use  at    the  celebration    o'f    the  "Fete   Dieu  "  or  "Corpus  Christi  "  in 

|une,   the  procession  going  to  one  or  the  other  in    alternate  years.     On  these  occasions, 

^e>-  would  be  gay  with   llowers,   flags,  and  evergreens.      Beside  one  of  them  is  the  little 

!ot  used    for  the  burial    of    heretics,  excommunicated    persons,   and    unbaptized    infants. 
h('re    is    always    such    a  corner  -in    every  village    cemetery,   never    a    large    one,   for  the 
j||ople  are  too   good  Catholics   not  to  have    an  intense   dread  of  lying  in  unconsecrated 


I6 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE 


ground,  and  too  charitable  to  consign  strangers  to  the  fate  they  fear  for  themselves. 
The  chapel  farthest  down  the  river  is  now  a  consecrated  shrine  of  Notre  Dame  de 
Lourdes.  Before  the  statue  of  our  Lady  burns  a  perpetual  light,  and  she  divides  with 
La  Bonne  Ste.  Anne  de  Beauprc  the  devotions  of  thousands  of  pilgrims  annually. 

The  course  of  settlement  along  the  St.  Lawrence  is  well  defined.  Close  to  the  river, 
in  a  belt  from  two  to  ten  miles  wide,  on  the  north  shore,  lie  the  old  French  farms. 
Back  of  these,  among  the  foot-hills,  is  a  second  range  of  settlements,  for  the  most  part 
Irish  and  Scotch.  F'arther  in  are  the  colons  or  pioneers,  who,  no  longer  able  to  live 
upon  the  subdivision  of  their  patrimomc  or  family  inheritance,  commence  again,  as  their 
ancestors   did,  in   the  backwoods.     Parallel  roads,  painfully  straight    for  miles,  mark  out 


FRENCH     FARMS. 


the  ranges  into  which  the  seigniories  and  parishes  are  divided.  These  ranges  or  concessions, 
are  sometimes  numbered,  sometimes  named,  almost  universally  after  a  saint.  On  the 
south  shore,  the  belt  of  settlement  is  much  wider.  At  the  westward  of  the  Province  it 
extends  to  the  United  States  boundary  line,  but  narrows  as  it  approaches  Quebec,  so 
that  below  the  city  the  arrangement  is  much  the  same  as  on  the  north  side.  In  fact, 
French-Canada  is  very  truly  described  as  two  continuous  villages  along  the  St.  Lawrence, 
The  succession  of  white  cottages,  each  on  its  own  little  parallelogram  of  land,  has 
struck  every  traveller  from  La  Hontan  to  the  present  day. 

The  narrow  farms,  or  ierres,  as  they  are  called,  catch  the  eye  at  once.     Originally 
three  arpens  wide  by  thirty  deep  (the  arpent  as  a  lineal  measure  equals  i8o  French  or  loi    | 


AND   CHARACTER  '7 

English  feet),  or  about  200  yards  by  a  little  over  a  mile,  they  have  been  subdivided 
according  to  the  system  of  intestate  succession  under  the  Coutume  de  Paris,  which  gives 
property  in  equal  shares  to  all  the  children,  until  the  fences  seem  to  cover  more  ground 
than  the  crops.  The  division  is  longitudinal,  so  that  each  heir  gets  an  equal  strip  of 
beech,  marsh,  plough  land,  pasture,  and  forest.  The  houses  line  the  road  that  runs  along 
the  top  of  the  river  bank,  or  marks  the  front  of  the  concession  if  it  lies  back  any  distance. 
This  arrangement  is  but  a  carrying  out  of  the  principle  upon  which  the  original  settle- 
ment was  formed,  to  gain  all  the  advantages  of  the  river  frontage.  The  entire  organi- 
zation of  F"rench-Canada  depended  on  it.  The  system  was  well  adapted  for  easy  com- 
munication in  the  early  days  of  the  colony  ;  the  river  was  the  highway — in  summer,  for 
canoes — in  winter,  for  sleighs  ;  so  that  the  want  of  good  roads  was  not  a  serious  disad- 
vantage. It  was  also  well  suited  for  defence  against  the  Iroquois,  who  in  their  bloody 
raids  had  to  follow  the  course  of  the  streams.  The  settlers  could  fall  back  upon  each 
other,  gradually  gaining  strength  until  the  seigneur  s  block-house  was  reached  and  a  stand 
made  while  the  news  went  on  from  farm  to  farm,  and  the  whole  colony  stood  to  arms. 
In  the  district  of  Quebec  you  may  often  hear  a  habitant  speak  of  going  "  au  fort," 
meaning  thereby  "  au  village," — a  curious  survival  of  those  fighting  days. 

In  winter  the  ice  is  still  the  best  of  all  roads.  Long  lanes  of  bushes  and  small 
spruces,  dwindling  away  in  distant  perspective,  mark  out  the  track,  to  keep  which  would 
otherwise  be  no  easy  matter  at  night  or  in  a  snowstorm,  and  point  out  the  "  air  holes  " 
caused  by  the  "shoving"  or  moving  en  masse  of  the  ice  that  usually  follows  any  change 
in  the  level  of  the  river. 

This  universal  parallelogramic  shape  is,  however,  very  disadvantageous  to  the 
development  of  a  country,  being  to  no  small  extent  anti-social  and  particularly  unfavour- 
able to  a  general  school  system.  The  geographical,  not  the  mental  condition  of  the  liabi- 
tant  has  militated  most  against  intellectual  and  social  improvement.  There  were  no 
points  of  concentration  for  the  interchange  of  ideas,  save  the  gathering  at  the  parish 
church  on  Sundays  and  f6te-days  when,  after  High  Mass,  the  crowd  lingers  to  hear  the 
huissiers  publications  of  official  notices  at  the  church  door ;  or,  once  in  a  while,  to  listen 
to  electioneering  addresses.  The  villages  are,  as  before  noted,  for  the  most  part  long, 
straggling  lines  of  houses,  with  hardly  any  sign  where  one  begins  and  the  other  ends, 
save  the  spire  of  another  church,  with  the  neighbouring  cottages  a  little  closer  together. 
There  are  no  country  gentry.  The  seigneur  rarely  resides  upon  his  estate,  and  when 
he  does,  his  prestige  is  no  longer  what  it  was ;  he  is  often  merely  a  habitant  himself, 
one  of  the  people,  as  are  the  curi!,  the  couple  of  shopkeepers,  the  village  notary,  and 
the  doctor,  wjho  compose  the  notables.  The  judicial  terms  every  month  at  the  Chef 
Lieu,  which  in  a  way  corresponds  to  the  County  Town,  by  no  means  compare  with  the 
bustle  of  the  Assizes  in  an  English  or  Ontarian  County.  For  the  habitans  not  close 
to  one  of   the  large  cities  there  is  no  going   to  market,  as   nearly  everything  they   raise 


i8 


FRJtXC/f  CLV.I/)/.  I.V   TJFR 


is  consumed  by  themselves  at  home.  The  isolation  of  the  curds,  their  zeal  for  their 
pastoral  work  and  the  incessant  demands  upon  their  time,  used  to  prevent  much  study 
and  practice  of  agriculture  as  a  science,  or  much  attention  to  the  education  of  their 
flocks  in  an\thino-  l)ut  rf^ligious  duties.  In  the  old  days,  when  sct'onciir  and  ciin'  both 
dcri\ed  their  incoini;  from  imposts  on  produce,  the  dejj^ree  of  consideration  in  which  a 
habitant  was  held  I)\-  his  superiors,  and  consequently  his  respectability,  was  settled  prin- 
cipally by  the  amount  of  wheat  he  sowed. 

With  the  energetic  development  of  colonization  on  the  Crown  lands,  the  establish- 
ment of  agricultural  societies,  the  opening  of  roads,  the  construction  of  the  Provincial 
railway,  the    liberal    aid    given    b)    the    Government    to    private    railway   enterprise,  and, 


'l 

-^*^/ 

fc- 

"^^ 

CHATKAU     KICHKK. 


above  all,  the  excellent  school  system,  this  state  of  things  is  fast  disappearing.  Though 
it  ma\  recpiire  another  generation  or  two  to  overcome  the  influence  of  habits  centuries 
old,  originally  founded  in  reason,  and  still  rooted  in  popular  affection  by  custom  and 
tradition,  there  is  every  indication  that  before  long  Lower  Canada  and  its  liabitans  may 
become  in  effect  what  by  nature  they  are  meant  to  be,  one  of  the  most  .'prosperous  df 
countries  and   intelligent  of  peoples. 

Chateau   Richer,  which,  in  natural  beaut\',  equals  L'Ange  Gardien,  is  the  next  parish 
to  the  eastward.     It  gets  its  name  from  an  old  Indian    trader,  whose    chateau  near   the 


AND    CHARACTER  i9 

river  is  now  but  a  small  heap  of  ruins  almost  lost  in  the  uncler<rro\vth.  The  hill  here 
advances  abruptly  towards  the  river,  forming,  where  the  main  road  crosses  its  projecting 
spur,  a  commanding  elevation  for  the  handsome  stone  church  that  towers  over  the  cottages 
which  line  the  gracefully  receding  curve  beyond.  Not  many  )ears  ago  the  blackened 
walls  of  a  convent  lay  at  the  foot  of  this  same  hill,  witnesses  of  the  ruin  worked  at 
the  time  of  the  Conquest.  Knox  says  in  his  journal,  that  the  priest,  at  the  head  of  his 
parishioners,  fortified  the  building  and  held  it  against  an  English  detachment  and  two 
pieces  of  artillery,  but  it  was  reduced  to  ashes  ;  the  remnant  of  its  brave  garrison  were 
scalped  b\'  the  Irocpiois  allies  of  the  English.  It  i;.  fn*"  more  likel)-  that  the  brave  curd 
stayed  with  his  llock,  to  comfort  them  to  the  last,  than  that  he  led  them  on.  However 
that  may  be,   the  convent  has  been  rebuilt,   and  is  now  the  parish  school. 

The  seigniories  or  large  tracts  in  which  the  land  was  originally  granted,  varied 
much  in  size,  but  usually  corresponded  with  the  ecclesiastical  di\ision  into  parishes.  As 
territorial  divisions,  the\'  have  been  supplanted  by  the  modern  municipal  system.  Many 
of  them  are  still  held  by  the  descendants  of  the  grantees  ;  others  have  passed  into  the 
hands  of  strangers.  .Some  are  owned  by  religious  corporations,  the  principal  of  these 
being  the  Island  of  Montreal,  St.  Sulpice  and  the  Lake  of  Two  Mountains — all  of 
which  belong  to  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice  at  Montreal — and  that  of  the  Cote  de 
Beaupre,  owned  by  the  Quebec  Seminary.  Since  the  abolition  of  feudal  tenure  by  the 
Act  of  1854,  which  [jlaced  a  large  sum  in  the  hands  of  the  Government,  to  be  paid  to 
the  sn's^iic/ns  in  extinction  of  their  rights,  their  former  dignity  has  sadly  (.Iwindletl.  The 
title  is,  in  most  cases,  but  a  barren  honour,  though  in  one  instance — that  of  the  Barony 
of  Longueuil — it  has  recently  been  recognized  as  carrying  with  it  a  patent  of  nobility. 
It  had  been  the  intention  of  Louis  XI\'.,  in  founding  a  feudal  s)'stem  in  Canada,  to 
create  a  territorial  aristocracy,  but  in  avoiding  the  danger  of  sowing  the  teeth  of  the 
dragon  it  had  cost  the  Bourbons  so  much  to  kill,  he  bestowed  his  favours  upon  a  class 
unable  to  support  their  honours.  The  consequence  was  that,  in  most  cases,  the  sc/oiiair 
niad(.:  the  complaint  of  the  unjust  steward,  that  "  to  dig  he  knew  not  and  to  beg  he  was 
asliamed,"  and  prayed  to  be  allowed  to  drop  his  nobility  ami  earn  his  living  the  best 
■  \,'ay  he  could. 

The  titles  had,  therefore,  nearly  quite  disappeared  before  the  Contpiest.  The  seig- 
niorial rights  were  never  very  extensive.  Tliey  consisted  principally  in  the  Cciis  ct  RciUes, 
or  annual  ground-rent  paid  by  the  icnsitairi'  for  his  hoKling,  and  in  the  Tods  ct  I'cntcs, 
or  tine  collected  on  each  transfer  of  a  property-  from  one  tenant  to  another.  The  former 
were  very  trifling,  something  like  two  sous  per  acre  being  the  usual  amount  in  hard 
cash,  with  a  bushel  of  wheat,  a  fowl,  a  pigeon,  or  a  sucking-pig,  as  payment  in  kind, 
;On  rent-day,  in  the  month  of  November,  the  farm-yard  of  the  viaiioir  woukl  present  a 
i  lively  scene,  in  droll  contrast  to  the  solemn  dignity  with  which  the  sci'i^iicur,  seated  in 
his  large  chair  before  a  table  covered  with  his  huge  account-books,  and   in  the  old  days 


20  FRENCIT  CANADIAN  LIFE 

with  his  sword  laid  in  front  of  him,  received  the  sakjtations  and  compliments,  and  weigheti 
the  excuses  of  his  censitaircs,  who  rivalled  the  Irish  peasant  in  chronic  impecuniosity 
and  ingenious  devices.  The  Lods  ct  Ventcs  were  a  more  serious  imposition,  amountinj^ 
to  one-twelfth  of  the  price  of  sale.  They  were  a  hindrance  to  the  progress  of  the 
country,  for  they  discouraged  improvements  by  the  tenant,  and  prevented  the  infusion 
of  new  blood  and  the  spread  of  new  ideas.  They  seem,  however,  not  to  have  been 
considered  so  by  the  ccnsitaires  themselves.  In  reality,  they  were  an  expression  of  the 
domesticity  of  French-Canadians,  who  dread  the  breaking  up  of  families,  and  live  for 
generation  after  generation  upon  the  same  land,  with  a  tenacity  and  affection  equalled 
only  by  their  industry  and  endurance,  when  at  length  home  and  kindred  have  been  left. 
In  connection  with  the  motives  for  the  imposition  of  this  fine,  one  of  which,  no  doubt, 
was  the  desire  to  keep  the  people  bound  to  the  land,  and  another  the  wish  to  profit 
by  the  rare  chance  of  a  ccnsitaire  having  ready  money — though  the  origin  of  the  Lods 
et  Voltes  in  reality  leads  back  to  the  earliest  feudalism — it  is  curious  to  note  such 
confiicting  traits  in  the  same  people.  The  contrast  is  historical.  It  was  hard  to  persuade 
the  home-loving  peasantry  of  France  to  emigrate  when,  in  1663,  the  King  took  up  so 
vigorously  his  dream  of  an  Empire  in  the  West.  Once  in  La  Nouvelle  France,  however, 
such  was  the  spirit  of  adventure,  that  it  almost  immediately  became  necessary  to  issue 
an  edict  forbidding  their  wanderings,  and  compelling  them  to  make  their  clearings  con- 
tiguous and  their  parishes  as  much  as  possible  in  the  form  of  those  in  France.  Within 
a  hundred  j-ears  a  penalty  had  to  be  imposed  upon  too  close  settlement  and  small  farms. 
in  order,  to  bring  the  seigneurs  estates  all  under  cultivation.  .At  the  present  time  a 
great  aim  of  the  Government  is  to  discourage  emigration,  and  to  aid  by  every  means 
the  repatriation  of  French-Canadians  and  colonization  in  the  back  country.  One  of  the 
most  potent  means  of  effecting  this  is  found  to  be  their  strong  family  affection. 

There  was  another  right  incidental  to  the  Lods  et  Vcntes — the  Droit  de  Retrait,  or 
privilege  of  pre-emptio.i  at  the  highest  price  bidden  for  land  within  forty  days  after  its 
sale  ;  this,  however,  was  not  much  used.  The  only  other  right  of  real  consequence  was 
the  Droit  de  Banality,  by  which  the  eensitaire  was  bound  to  grind  his  corn  at  the  seii:^- 
netirs  mill,  paying  one  bushel  out  of  every  fourteen  for  toll.  This  arrangement  suited 
the  habitant  very  well.  He  is  saving  enough,  and  manages  to  accumulate  a  little  capital 
sometimes,  but  it  goes  into  the  savings  bank,  not  unfrequently  into  an  old  stockinij. 
The  risk  of  an  investment  is  too  much  for  him,  and  he  used  to  prefer  that  the  seigneur 
should  make  the  necessary  outlays,  while  all  that  he  was  called  upon  for  would  be  a 
sacrifice  of  part  of  his  crop.  In  this  way,  however,  all  industrial  enterprise  was  ham- 
pered and  discouraged  by  the  monopoly  of  the  water  power.  Under  the  French  r^ginu, 
a  civil  and  criminal  jurisdiction  over  his  vassals,  varying  in  extent  according  to  the 
dignity  of  the  fief,  was  theoretically  vested  in  the  seigneur ;  and  all  the  three  grades 
known    to    feudal    law — the    basse,    moycnne   and    hatite  justice — theoretically    existed    in 


AND   CHARACTER 


21 


Canada,   but   its    exercise  was    rare,  owinj;  to  the    expense  of   keeping  up  the    machinery 

of  a  court  and  the  petty  amount  of  its  cognizance. 

These  reHcs  of  feudalism  liave  a  curious  interest  to  the  antiquarian  and  also  a  very 

practical  one  as  regards  the  progress    of    the  country,  existing    as    they  did   in  the   New 

World    and    under    the    protection    of    the    British    Constitution,  and    still    living    in    the 

memories   and  language  of  the  present  generation. 

One  of  the  most    interesting    aspects  of    the    feudal    tenure  was    the  social    relation 

between  seigneur  and  censitaire.       This  was    nearly  always    a    paternal  one,  so  much  so, 

indeed,  that  it  was  quite  as  much 
a  duty  as  a  right  by  courtesy  of 
the  scigneicr  to  stand  godfather 
for     the    eldest     children     of    his 


WAVSIDK     U'ATKKING     TKOldU. 


[ccnsitaircs.  Among  his  many  graphic  descriptions  of  life  under  the  Old  Regime, 
M.  de  Gaspe  gives  an  amusing  account  of  a  friend  receiving  a  New  Year's  visit 
from  a  hundred  godsons.  The  manoir  was  all  that  "the  Great  House"  of  an  English 
scjuire  is  and  more,  for  the  intercourse  between  seigneur  and  censitaire  was  freer 
and  more  intimate  than  that  between  squire  and  tenant.  In  spite  of  the  nominal  sub- 
jection, the  censitaire  was  less  dependent  and  subservient  than  the  English  peasant. 
It  is  impracticable  here  to  go  into  any  detailed  description  of  the  seigniorial  tenure. 
its  influences  and  the  mode  of  its  abolition  ;  but  without  some  knowledge  of  it, 
the  actual  as  well  as  the  past  condition  of  Lower  Canada  would  be  impossible  to 
.understand.      The  whole  system  of  colonization  originally  rested  upon  two  men,  the  seig- 


I 


22 


FR/iXC/f  CAN  API  AX  IJFH 


Hfiir  and  the  ain'.  Through  llu-in  the  Government  worked  its  military  and  religious 
organizations,  while  their  interests  in  the  soil,  from  which  both  derived  their  income, 
were  identical.  "  The  Swc  rd,  the  Cross,  and  the  Plough  "  ha\e  been  said  to  explain  th(' 
secret  of  I'Vench-Canadian  nationality.  These  three  came  together  in  their  hands.  Of 
course,  all  around  the  old  French  settlements  the  system  of  freehold  upon  which  thi- 
Crown  lands  are  granted  has  produced  great  changes  in  manners,  customs,  and  ideas, 
but  the  influence  of  the  old  state  of  things  is  still  strongl)-  marketl.  In  the  face  of  all 
the  improvements  effected  and  progress  made  since  its  abolition,  it  served  its  purpose; 
well,  and,  as  the  Abbe  Casgrain  remarks,  "  The  democratic  anil  secularizing  spirit  of 
our  age  is  opposed  to  these  feudal  and  ecclesiastical  institutions,  but  we  may  be  per- 
mitted to  doubt  whether  it  could  have  invented  a  system  better  adapted  to  the  genius 
of  our  race  and  to  the  needs  of  the  situation." 

There  are  few  drives  in  the  l'ro\ince  prettier  than  that  from  Quebec  to  St.  loachim, 
as  it  winds  along  between  the  hills  and  the  river  through  Beauport,  past  L'Ange  Gar- 
dien.  Chateau  Richer,  ami  .Ste.  Annt;,  crossing  en  the  wa)'  the  Montmorency,  Sault  a  la 
Puce,  Riviere  aux  Chiens,  and  Ste.  Anne,  besides  a  host  of  smaller  streams.  Once  out- 
side the  toll-gates,  the  rugged  streets  of  Quebec  give  place  to  an  excellent  macada- 
mized road  kept  in  capital  order.  In  summer,  wizened  old  toiiipcrcs,  too  bent  and  worn 
out  for  any  other  work,  salute  )ou  from  tlie  tops  of  the  piles  of  stones  the\'  lazily 
hammer  between  the  complacent  puffs  of  their  pipes  and  their  comments  on  passers-by. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  work  in  these  old  fellows,  and  their  cheerfulness  lasts  to  the 
end.  The  P  rench-Canadian  is  a  capital  labourer,  slow  perhaps,  but  sure.  He  is  docile 
and  willing,  and  his  light-heartedness  gets  over  all  difficulties.  "  Your  merry  heart  gO's 
all  the!  day,  your  sail  one  tires  in  a  mile-o,"  is  his  motto.  In  winter  you  have  to  turn 
out  to  let  the  snow-plough  with  its  great  wings  and  its  long  team  of  six  or  eight  horses 
go  past  amid  cheery  shouts  from  its  guides,  whose  rosy  faces  and  icicled  beards  toppini,' 
the  clouds  of  snow  that  cover  their  blanket  coats  make  them  look  like  so  many  P'athir 
Christmases. 

There  is  a  great  deal  to  see  along  the  road  besides  the  beautiful  scenery  that  met  t-; 
the  eye  everywhere.  .Springs  are  abundant  in  the  gravelly  soil.  They  trickle  down  thf 
bank  under  the  trees,  making  tielicious  nooks  by  the  paths  where  wooden  spouts  con- 
centrate their  How.  Wells,  of  course,  are  not  much  needed  along  the  hillside.  If  you 
stop  to  drink  you  will  probably  have  an  opportunity  to  appreciate  P^rench-Canadi.ui 
civility.  The  odds  are  greatly  in  favour  of  some  of  the  host  of  brown-skinned,  bhu  k- 
eyed,  merry-looking  children  that  play  about  the  neighbouring  house  being  sent  over  U' 
ask  if  "  Monsieur  will  not  by  preference  have  some  milk  ?"  You  like  the  clear  ice-ceKi 
water.  "  Bun,  ccst  bonne  lean  frcttc  (]nand  on  a  soif"  but  "  Monsieur  will  come  in, 
perhaps,  and  rest,  for  sacrc  il  fait  chand  cci  aprcs-niidi."  Monsieur,  howe\er,  goes  «iii 
amid  all  sorts  of  good  wishes  and  polite  farewells. 


AX/)   CHARACTER 


23 


It  seems  stran,L,'e  to  see  the  women  at  work  in  the  ticKls.  Their  hhie  skirts  and 
enormous  hats,  however,  are  fine  hits  of  ch'tail  for  a  picture,  and  they  iiavini^r  b(;en 
used  to  such  labours  all  •:helr  liv(>s,  do  not  mind  it.  Voun-j^  twirls  of  the  poorer  class 
hire  out  for  the  harvest,  to^jether  with  their  brothers.  At  times  you  may  meet  troops 
of  them  on  their  wa>-  to  church,  their  hotter  h'taufaiscs — as  store-made  boots  are  still 
called,    in    contradistinction    to    botta   liidicinits — sluno-    round    thinr    necks.       This    heavy 


*'     •      ..  ..T' 


m^m^^'^^fi^^^ry^ 


. .  '  V.  <,^4'""'*'  *=;:.>UT-^f I'^^e-^s^'! 


%tlis3E!*'^-45M" 


ST.     JOACHIM. 


labour,  however,  has  told  upon  the  class,  if  not  upon  the  individual,  and,  no  doubt, 
accounts  for  the  ill-favouredness  and  thick,  stpiat  fiL^mres  of  the  lower  order  of  hahitaiis. 
Even  the  children  take  a  good  share  of  hard  work,  and  none  of  the  potential  energy  of 
the  family  is  neglected  that  can  possibly  be  turned  to  account.  One  of  the  most  striking 
sights  by  the  roadside  of  a  night  towards  the  ^x\(\  of  autumn  are  the  family  groups 
"breaking"  tlax.  After  the  stalks  have  been  steeped  they  are  dried  over  fires  built  in 
pits  on  the  liillsides,  then  stripped  of  the  outer  bark  by  a  rude  home-made  machine 
constructed  entireh'  of  wood,  but  as  effective  as  it  is  simple.  The  dull  gleam  of  the 
sunken  fires  and  the  fantastic  shadows  of  the  workers  make  up  a  strange  scene. 

Not  the  least  curious  features  of  the  drive  are  the  odd  vehicles  one  meets.  Oxen 
do  much  of  the  heavier  hauling,  their  pace  being  quite  fast  enough  for  the  easy, 
patient  temperament  of  the  habitant,  to  whom  distance  is  a  mere  abstraction — time 
and  tobacco  take  a  man  anywhere,  seems  to  be  his  rule.  It  is  impossible  to  find  out 
the  real  length  of  a  journey.  Ask  the  first  habitant  you  meet,  "  How  far  is  it  to  Saint 
Quelquechose?"  "Deux  ou  trois  lieues,  je  pense,  Monsieur,"  will  be  the  answer,  given 
so  thoughtfully  and  politely  that  you  cannot  doubt  its  correctness.  But  after  you  have 
jjovered  the  somewhat  wide  margin  thus  indicated,  you  need  not    be    astonished    to    find 


24  FRENCH  CANADIAN  UFF 

you  have  to  go  still  "  unc  lieue  et  encore,"  or,  as  the  Scotch  put  it.  "  three  miles  ami 
a  bittock,"  nor  still,  ay^ain,  to  find  the  "encore"  nuich  the  best  part  of  the  way. 
Another  characteristic  mode  of  measurinjj^  distance  is  by  the  number  of  pipes  to  be; 
smoked  in  traversing  it.  "Deux  pipes"  is  a  very  variable  quantit),  and  more  satisfactory 
to  an  indeterminate  equation  than  to  a  hungry  traveller. 

The  "  buckboard "  is  a  contrivance  originally  peculiar  to  Lower  Canada.  It  has 
thence  found  its  way,  with  the  French  half-breeds,  to  the  North-west,  where  its  simplicity  j 
and  adaptability  to  rough  roads  are  much  appreciated.  It  is  certainly  unique  in  con- 
struction. Put  a  pair  of  wheels  at  each  end  of  a  long  plank  and  a  movable  seat  between 
them  ;  a  large  load  can  be  stowed  away  upon  it,  and  jou  are  independent  of  springs, 
for  when  one  plank  breaks  another  is  easily  got.  The  wayside  forgeron,  or  blacksmith, 
need  not  be  a  very  cunning  craftsman  to  do  all  other  repairs.  The  charcttc,  or  market- 
cart,  is  another  curiosity  on  wheels,  a  cross  between  a  boat  and  a  gig,  apparently.  The 
caldchc  is  a  vehicle  of  greater  dignity,  but  sorely  trying  to  that  of  the  stranger,  as, 
perched  high  up  in  a  sort  of  cabriolet  hung  by  leathern  straps  between  two  huge 
wheels,  he  flies  up  and  down  the  most  break-neck  hills.  The  driver  has  a  seat  in  front, 
almost  over  the  back  of  the  horse,  who,  if  it  were  not  for  his  gait,  would  seem  quite 
an  unimportant  part  of  the  afYair. 

It  is  not  very  long  since  dog-carts  were  regularly  used  in  the  cities  as  well  as  in 
the  country,  for  all  kinds  of  draught  purposes,  but  this  has  now  been  humanely  stopped. 
Along  the  roads  they  are  a  common  sight,  and  notwithstanding  the  great  strength  of 
the  dogs  used,  it  is  not  pleasant  to  see  one  of  these  black,  smooth-haired,  stoutly- 
built  little  fellows  panting  along,  half  hidden  under  a  load  of  wood  big  enough  for  a 
horse,  or  dragging  a  milk-cart  with  a  fat  old  woman  on  top  of  the  cans.  They  are 
generally  well-used,  however,  if  one  may  judge  by  their  good-nature.  Out  of  harness 
they  lie  about  the  doors  of  the  houses  very  contentedly,  and,  like  their  masters,  are  very 
civil  to  strangers. 

The  signs  over  the  little  shops  that  you  meet  with  at  rare  intervals  in  the  villages, 
are  touchingly  simple  in  design  and  execution.  An  unpainted  board,  with  lettering 
accommodated  to  emergencies  in  the  most  ludicrous  way,  sets  forth  the.  "  bon  marc /ic' 
to  be  had  within.  The  forgeron,  who  is  well-to-do — in  fact,  quite  un  Jiabitant  h  son 
ai'sc — has,  perhaps,  a  gorgeous  representation  of  the  products  of  his  art.  A  modest 
placard  in  the  nine-by-four  pane  of  a  tiny  cottage  window,  announces  "rafraichissement" 
for  man,  and  farther  on  "  une  bonne  cour  d'ecurie "  provides  for  beast.  At  Ste. 
Anne's,  where  the  little  taverns  bid  against  each  other  for  the  pilgrim's  custom,  one 
hotellier  bases  his  claim  to  favour  upon  the  fact  of  being  "  epoux  de  Mdlle. "  sonit- 
body.  Whether  the  Mdlle.  was  a  saint  or  a  publican  of  renown,  the  writer  knows  not. 
But  the  oddities  of  these  signs  would  make  an  article  to  themselves,  and  we  must  p;is> 
on,  with  the  shining  domes  of    convent    and    church   as  landmarks  of    the    next    villa,L';t'. 


M 


//.\7)   CflARACTI-R  ^^ 

I'.vv,.^  now  and  then  a  roadside  cross  is  passed,  sometimes  a  grand  Calvairr,  resplendent 
with  stone  and  gildinJ,^  covered  by  a  roof,  and  from  its  high  platform  showing  afar  the 
symbol  of  Christian  faith.  Statues  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  St.  Joseph  sometimes 
stand  at  each  side  of  the  crucifix,  but  such  elaborate  shrines  are  rare,  and  as  a  general 
rule  a  simple  wooden  cross  enclosed  by  a  paling  reminds  the  good  Catholic  of  his 
faith,    and    is   saluted    by  a  reverent    lifting   of    his  hat  and  a    pause    in    his  talk    as   he 


'''t?^^*''^ 


ON     THE     ROAD     TO     ST.     JOACHIM. 

goes  by.  Sometimes  you  meet  little  chapels  like  those  at  Chateau  Richer.  They 
stand  open  always,  and  the  country  people,  as  they  pass,  drop  in  to  say  a  prayer  lo 
speed  good  souls'   deliverance  and  their  own  journey. 

A  little  off  the  road  you  may  perhaps  find  the  ruins  of  an  old  seigniorial  manoir,  out- 
lived by  its  avenue  of  magnificent  trees.  The  stout  stone  walls  and  iron-barred  windows 
tell  of  troublous  times  long  ago,  while  the  vestiges  of  smooth  lawns  and  the  sleepy 
fishponds  show  that  once  the  luxury  of  Versailles  reigned  here.  The  old  house  has 
gone  through  many  a  change  of  hands  since  its  first  owner  came  across  the  sea,  a  gay 
soldier  in  the  Carignan  regiment,  or  a  scapegrace  courtier  who  had  made  Paris  too  hot  for 


I'Riixuf  c.w.mi.w  i.irr. 


him.  Little  is  left  of  it  now,  save  perhaps 
the  tiny  chapel,  buried  in  a  throve  of  solemn 
oaks.  A  few,  very  few,  of  these  old  buildings 
have  survived. 

Ordinary  French  -  Canadian  houses,  though 
picturesque  enough  in  some  situations,  as  when 
you  come  round  a  corner  upon  a  street  like 
that  in  Chateau  Richer,  are  much  alike.  A  gros  habitant,  as  a  well-to-do  farmer  is 
called,  will  have  one  larger  and  better  furnished  than  those  of  his  poorer  neighbours, 
but  the  type  is  the  same.  They  are  long,  low,  one-storey  cottages,  of  wood,  sometimes 
of  rough  stone,  but  whether  of  wood  or  stone,  are  prim  with  whitewash  often  crossed 
with  black  lines  to  simulate,  in  an  amusingly  conventional  way,  courses  of  regulai 
masonry.       By   way    of    variety,    they    are    sometimes    painted    black    or    slate    colour, 


1 


./.\7'   (IIARACTIIR  .  27 

with  white  lines.  Sciiian-  brick  huililiiij^s  with  inansartl  roofs  of  tin.  l).ire  in  archi- 
tecture anil  surronndinj^rs,  i^rlarin!.,^  in  newness  and  hideous  with  saweil  scroll-work, 
are  iinfortunat(;ly  sprins^iiij^'  up  oM-r  the  coiintr\-  in  mistaken  testimony  of  improxe- 
ment.  The  artist  will  still  prefer  the  old  lioiises  with  their  unpretentious  simplicity 
and  rude  l»ut  i.;enuine  c.\[)ressions  of  ornament.  'iheir  hi_Ljh,  sharp-pitched  roofs 
spriu]^  from  a  graceful  curve  at  the  projectinjr  caves.  o\cr  whicli  ])eep  out  tiny 
dormer  windows.  'Ihe  shin_i,des  at  the  riclLjt!  and  o\-er  the  windows  are  pointed  hy 
wa\'  of  decoration.  Koof.  lintels,  and  iloor-posts  art;  .Ljaily  paintt;d,  for  thr  luihitaitl 
loves  colour  even  if  tin;  freedom  with  which  he  uses  the  primaries  is  at  times 
rather  distractinLr  to  mon;  cultivateil  eves.  .\  Xwv'v  chimnev  built  outsicU;  the 
house  projects  from  the  stable  vwA,  anil  sometimes  the  stairwa)'  also  has  to  tind  room 
outside,  reminding-  ont;  of  the  old  i'rench  towns  whose  architecture  ser\ed  to  model 
these  quaint  buildinjjfs.  A  broad  i^^allery  runs  alom^-  the  front,  furnishini.^  pleasant 
shade  under  its  \ines,  but  dark('nin_Lj  the  interior  into  which  small  casement  windows 
admit  too  little  lii^'ht  and  air.  Sometimes  a  simple  platform,  with  ricketty  wooden 
steps  at  each  end  or  a  couph;  of  stones  leading;'  to  the  door,  takes  the  place  of  the 
fjallery  antl  affords  room  for  a  ft-w  chairs.  .\  restimL^f^-place  of  some  kind  then-  must 
be,  for  in  summer  the  leisure  time  of  the  habilaiil  is  spent  at  the  door,  the  women 
knittinjj;',  the  men  smokiuL;  the  e\  il-smellini^  native  tobacco,  while  ever\'  passer-by  i^ixes 
a  chance  for  a  t^ossip  ami  a  joke.  The  heav\'  wooden  shutters,  a  sur\i\al  of  the  oKl 
Indian-li,nhtin<4-  times,  are  tightly  closed  at  nii,dit.  L:^iviniL;-  an  appearance  of  security  little 
needed,  for  robberies  are  almost  unknown,  ami  in  man\'  districts  locks  are  ne\er  us(;il. 
In  da\-time,  the  white  linc-n  blinds  in  front  are  drawn  down,  which  i^dxes  a  rather  funereal 
look,  and  the  closinn'  of  the  shutters  cuts  off  the  lii^ht  at  ni^ht,  makin!:;-  the  roads  \cr\- 
cheerless  to  the  traveller. 

In  the  district  of  Quebec,  the  people  are  \er)'  fond  of  flowers.  Even  vt^ry  j)oor 
cottatj^es  have  masses  of  brilliant  bloom  in  tin;  windows  and  little  garden  plots  in  front 
neatly  kept  and  assiduously  cultivated,  for  the  altar  of  the  parish  church  is  decorated 
with  the'r  growth,  and  the  chililren  i)resent  their  firstfruits  as  an  offering  at  their  first 
communion.  An  elm  or  two,  with  masses  of  beautiful  foliage,  may  afford  grateful  shade 
from  the  intensity  of  the  summer  sun.  A  row  of  stiff  Normandy  poplars,  brought  from 
oUl  b>ance  in  Champlain's  or  Frontenac's  time  perhaps,  is  sure  to  be  found  bordering 
the  kitchen  garden  that  is  fenced  off  from  the  road  more  by  the  self-grown  hedge  of  rasp- 
berry and  wild  rose  than  by  the  dilapidated  palings  or  tumble-down  stone  wall.  A  great 
want,  however,  in  the  surroundings  of  most  French  farms  is  foliage,  for  practical  as  well  as 
asthetical  objects.  The  grand  second  growth  of  maples,  birches  and  elms  that  succeeds 
the  primaeval  forest  has  been  ruthlessly  cut  away,  till  the  landscape  in  many  districts, 
especially  on  the  north  shore,  between  Quebec  and  Montreal,  is  painfully  bare  in  fore- 
,ground,  while  the    houses  are   exposed  to  the  keen  north  wind    and  the  cattle    have  no 


28 


FR/iXC/f  CANADIAN  LIFE 


shelter  from    the    sun    and  storm.     In 

the     French    time     the     houses     were 

generally  surrounded    by    orchards   at  once   ornamental    and 

profitable.       One    may    even    now    occasionally    come    across 

some    descendants    of    them    owing    their   origin    to    sunny 

France.       In    the    C6te  de   Beaupre    you  will  see  them  still, 

but    they    have    in    too    many    cases    disappeared,    and    it    is 

only  within  a    few   years  past    that    fruit-growing   has    been    systematically  taken    up    b\ 

the    liabitans.       The    large    orchards    regularly    cultivated    on    the    Island    of    Montreal, 

show  with  what  success  the  beautiful  "  St.   Lawrence,"  the  well-named  Fafucusc,  and  the 

golden  Pommc  Grise,  a  genuine  little    Normandy  pippin,  can    be   grown.     Plums,  yellow 

and  blue,  grow  wild  in  abundance.     A  small,  reddish-purple  fruit,  of  pleasant  flavour  and 

not    unlike    a  wild    cherry    in    appearance,  is    plentiful,    as    are    also  cherries,    wild   and 

cultivated. 

The  number  and  beauty  of  the  waterfalls  on  the  Lower  St.  Lawrence  are  astonishing. 
Every  stream  must  find  its  way  to  the  river  over  the  immense  bank,  and  must  cut 
its  channel  through  the  tremendous  hills.  In  the  Cote  de  Beaupre  alone,  there  are 
dozens  of  magnificent  falh  not  known  to  Canadians  even  by  name,  though  within  a 
few  miles  of,  sometimes  close  to,  the  main  road.  Those  on  the  Riviere  aux  Chiens 
and  those  from  which  the  Sault  k  la  Puce  is  named,  are  only  two  examples.  The  Falls 
of  Ste.  Anne  and  those  of  .S'  Fereol  are  sometimes  heard  of,  yet  even  they,  grand 
as   they   are   and   lovely    in    their    surroundings,    are    rarely    visited.       Both    are   on   tne 


AND   CHARACTER  29 

Grande  Rivifere  Ste.  Anne,  which  divides  the  parishes.  Its  course  is  nearly  opposite 
to  that  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  is  throughout  nothing  but  a  succession  of  tumultuous 
rapids  and  stupendous  cataracts. 

Leaving  the  road  where  the  stream  crosses,  at  which  point  there  is  a  splendid 
view  of  Mount  Ste.  Anne,  the  highest  of  the  innumerable  peaks  that  break  the  sky- 
line as  you  look  down  the  river  from  Quebec,  a  drive  of  three  miles  through  beau- 
tiful woods  leads  within  sound  of  falling  water.  Another  mile  over  a  lovely  path 
through  the  heart  of  the  forest,  and  a  steep  descent  into  a  ravine,  brings  you  face  to 
face  with  an  immense  wall  of  granite,  its  base  a  mass  of  tilted  angular  blocks.  The 
river  narrows  here,  concentrating  all  its  powers  for  its  tremendous  leap  into  the  gorge 
that  forms  the  main  channel,  but  only  the  swift  rush  of  the  water,  the  cloud  of 
spray  and  the  deep  reverberations  that  echo  from  the  cliff  tell  of  its  fate.  A 
clamber  over  inclined  and  slippery  rocks,  beautiful  with  lichens  of  every  hue,  must 
be  risked  before,  lying  at  full  length,  you  can  see  the  perpendicular  column  of  crystal 
beaten  into  snowy  foam  on  the  rocks  over  a  hundred  feet  below.  Shooting  down  a 
second  pitch  the  torrent  breaks  and  rises  in  plume-like  curves.  Myriads  of  glittering 
gems  dance  in  the  play  of  sunlight  upon  the  spray.  Far  above,  the  precipice  rises 
stark  and  gray,  its  face  seamed  with  titanic  masonry,  its  crest  crowned  with  huge  battle- 
ments, like  the  wall  of  a  gigantic  fortress.  The  trees  that  banner  it  above  seem  no  larger 
than  the  tufts  of  grass  that  cling  in  the  crevices  of  its  perfectly  perpendicular  front ; 
great  buttresses  support  this  mountain  wall,  polished  and  bright  with  perpetual  moisture. 
Other  two  channels  tear  their  way  down  the  cliff  in  falls  of  less  volume  and  grandeur, 
but  of  great  beauty  as  they  leap  from  shelf  to  shelf,  uniting  at  the  foot  in  a  large  circular 
basin  worn  deep  into  the  black  basalt.  So  still  and  dark,  it  is  well  named  "  The 
Devil's   Kettle." 

The  chasm  through  which  the  main  body  of  the  stream  flows  is  narrow  enough  to 
jump  over ;  but  his  would  be  a  steady  brain  who  could  face  the  leap,  and  a  si'.re  fate 
who  should  miss  his  foothold.  The  island  in  the  centre  towers  up  in  a  succession  of 
giant  steps,  each  a  huge  cube  of  rock.  These  one  may  descend,  and  gain  a  front  view 
of  all  three  Falls.  Down  stream  one  looks  through  the  narrow  cleft  till  the  boiling 
torrent  i.:  suddenly  shut  cut  from  view  by  a  sharply-projecting  spur.  The  rocks  seem 
to  j?""  under  the  immense  weight  of  the  falling  water;  eye  and  ear  are  overpowered. 
The  scene    is    one    of    unparalleled  grandeur. 

F"arther  up  the  Ste.  Anne,  after  a  beautiful  drive  along  its  west  bank  and  round  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  the  hill-girt  \illage  of  St.  Fereol  is  reached.  Through  forest 
glades,  where  the  moss-festooned  spruces  mourn  over  the  prostrate  trunks  of  their  giant 
predecessors,  and  sunlit  copses  where  the  golden  leaves  of  the  silver  birch  mingle  with 
the  crimson  of  the  dying  maples,  the  delicate  emerald  of  the  quivering  aspen  and  the 
warm  russet  of   the  ferns  in    magic    harmonies   of   autumn    hues,  the    way    winds   on    to 


i 


30 


FRENCH  CANADIAX  /.//•/: 


FALLS    Ol-    ST. 

rLRKOL. 

where    the    Seven    Falls    chase    each    other    down    the 

rock)-  face  of  a    hujj^e  hill  in   masses  of   broken  water. 

Down    a    narrow    cleft    in    the    everi,rreens    which    stand    in    bold    relief    against    the    sky, 

''omes  the  first  and  largest    Fall.       Leaping  from  step    to    step,    the  torrent  dashes    over 


IND   CHARACTER 


31 


the  second  shelf  in  clouds  of  spray,  its  snowy  fra^jnients  unitini,^  again  only  to  be 
parted  b}'  a  projectin*,^  rock,  past  which  the  twin  rapids  rush,  chatino-  from  side- 
to  side,  as  if  in  search  of  each  other,  until  the)-  join,  and  plunge  together  over 
the  fourth  shelf.  The  fifth  l<"all  pours  down  a  steep  decline  and  whirls  in  foaming 
eddies  round  the  inky  depths  of  a  rock\-  Ijasin,  upon  which  looks  out  through  the  mist 
a  cave  called  "  Le  Trou  ile  St.  Patriee."  Turning  sharply  to  the  left,  the  stream  rolls  on 
in  heav)-  waves  of  dark  water  to  the  sixth  r'all,  antl  then  sweeping  through  close  walls 
of  rock,  plung(!s  into  an  inaccessible  ab\  ss.  On  both  sides  of  the  river  deep  ravines 
and  high  promontories  follow  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  and  a  thick  growth  of 
forest  clothes  the   whole. 

Within  the  last  fifteen  years,  agriculture  has  made  great  advances  in  some  parts  of 
the  l'ro\ince,  much  of  which,  howe\er,  )et  remains  in  a  primitive;  enough  condition.  I-ong 
isolation,  a  fertile  soil,  simplicit}'  of  life  and  of  warus,  lia\e  combined  to  keep  the 
French-Canadian  farmer  ])rett\-  much  what  he  was  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  In 
some  respects  his  ancestors  were'  bettc-r  than  he  ;  the\'  worked  on  a  larger  scale  and  had 
more  energy.  The  Conepiest,  with  its  c()nse([uent  wholesale  emigration,  and  the  unsettled 
political  state  of  tlu;  country  down  to  1S40,  nearl\-  extinguished  all  the  spirit  and  in- 
duslr\  that  had  survixeel  the  exactions  of  officials  and  the;  effects  of  war  during  the 
Fnncli  |)criod.  Among  the  liabitaus  farming  is  decidedly  still  in  its  infanc\'.  Tilling, 
sowing,  reaping  antl  storing  are  ;11  done  1)\  hand.  In  the  back  parislu^s  the  rudest  ot 
home-madL-  ploughs,  dragged  along  b\-  a  cou|:)le  of  oxen,  and  a  horst;  who  seems  to 
mo\(:  thf  oxen  that  they  may  mo\e  the  plough,  barely  scratch  up  the  soil.  A  brench- 
Canadian  harrow  is  the  most  prima'xal  of  implements,  being  at  best  a  rough  wooden 
rake,  antl  often  merely  a  lot  of  brushwood  fasteneil  to  a  beam.  The  sc_\lhe  and 
the  sickle  are  not  yet  displacetl  by  mowing  machin(;s  ;  all  the  ingenious  contrix  ances 
for  harxesting,  binding  and  storing,  are  unknown.  Threshing  is  still  done  b)-  tlails  and 
strong  arms,  though  once  in  a  while  \<ki  ma\-  hear  the  rattle  of  a  treadmill  where  the 
little'  black  pony  tramps  awa\-  as  sleei)il\  and  contented!}'  as  his  master  sits  on  a  fence- 
rail    smoking. 

Wheat,  barley,  oats,  maize  antl  buckwheat,  peas  antl  beans,  are  the  principal  grain 
croi)s.  The  beet-root,  however,  is  attracting  attention,  in  cf)nse(iuence  of  the  establish- 
ment of  beet-root  sugar  factories,  an  enterprise  cordially  furthered  by  Ciovernment  aid  but 
yet  in  its  experimental  stage.  .ShouKl  this  industry  be  successful,  it  will  gi\e  a  great 
im|)('tus  to  farming,  and  the  uiulfrtaking  has  the  merit — no  small  one,  in  the  people's 
opinion — of  being  distinctly  iM-ench.  Hay  is  abimtlant  antl  \ery  good.  I'dax  and  hemp 
are  raised.  Tobacco  thrives  ailmirabl\-  in  the  short  but  intensely  warm  summer. 
Patches  of  its  tall,  graceful,  broad-leaved  plants  waving  in  the  wind  alongside  the  yel- 
low tassels  of  the  Indian  corn,  heighten  the  foreign  aspect  around  some  old  cottage. 
Vegetables  of  every  kind  grow  luxuriantl)'.      Delicious  melons  are  abundant    antl    cheap. 


32  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE 

All  sorts  of  garden  fruit  —  strawberries,  raspberries,  gooseberries  and  currants  —  are- 
plentiful.  Strawberries  are  now  grown  in  large  quantities  for  the  town  markets.  Grapes 
grow  wild  in  abundance.  Immense  quantities  of  maple  sugar  are  yearly  produced  by 
the  "sugar  bushes"  on  the  slopes  of  the  hills.  Its  domestic  use  is  universal  among 
the  habitans,  and  in  the  towns  the  syrup,  sugar  and  laithr — or  the  sugar  in  an  un- 
crystallized,  pummy  state — are  in  great  demand.  The  processes  of  tapping  the  trees, 
collecting  the  sap,  "boiling  down,"  and  "sugaring  off,"  have  been  described  too  often 
to  repeat  here ;  but  a  visit  to  a  sugar  camp  will  well  repay  anybody  who  has  not 
seen  one,  and  is  a  favourite  amusement  for  picnickers.  The  French-Canadians  cling 
to  the  most  primitive  methods  in  this,  as  in  everything  else,  the  result,  if  an  economic 
loss,   being  at  least  a  picturesque   gain. 

Such  fertility  as  the  Province  possesses  should  make  it  a  rich  agricultural  country. 
It  is  really  so.  A  very  erroneous  impression  exists  that  all  the  best  land  has  been 
exhausted  ;  but  this  is  an  idea  akin  to  the  one  that  every  French-Canadian  wears 
moccasins  and  is  called  Jean  Baptiste.  It  is  quite  true  that  a  couple  of  hundred  jears 
of  persistent  tillage  upon  an  evil  routine,  and  want  of  opportunities  to  see  anything 
better,  have  run  down  the  old  French  farms  ;  but  even  as  it  is,  they  yield  well.  Many 
an  English  farmer  would  be  fjlad  to  tjet  such  land,  and  would  w'ork  wonders  with  a 
little  manure  and  proper  rotation  of  crops.  Then  there  are  millions  of  acres  yet 
untouched.  The  state  of  affairs  in  the  Cote  de  Bcaupre  is  described  only  as  being 
an  interesting  relic  of  a  period  almost  past.  Agriculture  is  in  a  state  of  transition. 
Already  the  advantages  of  rich  soil,  magnificent  suijimer  climate,  and  cheap  labour, 
are  being    realized. 

At  Ste.  Anne,  history  and  tradition  blend  with  the  life  and  manners  of  to-day  in  a 
most  striking  way.  The  first  settlers  in  the  Cote  de  Beaupre  built  a  little  church  on 
the  bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  dedicated  it  to  La  Bonne  Ste.  Anne,  in  memory, 
no  doubt,  as  Ferland  says,  of  the  celebrated  pilgrimage  of  .Sainte  Anne  d'Auray  in 
Bretagne.  The  bank,  however,  was  carried  away  by  the  ice  and  the  floods.  So  another 
building  was  commenced  in  1657  upon  the  site  pointed  out  by  M.  de  Queylus,  the 
Vicar-General,  and  given  by  Etienne  de  Lessard.  It  was  finished  in  1660.  The  (io\- 
ernor,  M.  d'Argenson,  laid  the  first  stone,  and  the  work  was  done  by  the  pious  labour 
of  the  habitans.  As  one  of  these,  Louis  Guimont  by  name,  racked  with  rheumatism, 
painfully  struggled  to  place  three  stones  in  the  foundation,  he  suddenly  found  his  health 
restored.  Thenceforward,  La  Bonne  Ste.  Anne  de  Beaupre  became  famous  througiioui 
all  Canada.  Among  the  pilgrims  that  flocked  to  celebrate  her  fete  each  year,  wen' 
conspicuous  the  Christian  Hurons  and  Algonqums,  in  whom  their  missionaries  had 
inspired  a  special  devotion  for  the  mother  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  To  this  day  then- 
descendants  are  to  be  found  among  the  thousands  of  worshippers  whom  the  steamers 
carry  from  Quebec.     The  pilgrimage  is  not  always  such  an  easy  excursion.     Those  who 


AND   CHARACTER 


12, 


have  special  favours  to  implore,  often  trudge  on  foot  the  long  journey  to  the  shrine. 
A  pyramid  of  crutches,  trusses,  bandages,  and  spectacles  stands  in  the  church,  to  attest 
the  miraculous  cures  worked  by   faith   and   prayer. 

The  site  of  the  old  church  is  marked  by  a  chapel  built  with  the  old  materials. 
It  is  roughly  finished  within,  containing  only  a  few  stained  seats  and  a  bare-looking 
altar  which  stands  between  two  quaint  images  of   Ste.  Marie  Magdelaine  and  Ste.   Anne, 


CHAI'l-.I.  AM)  GROTTO  AT  STK.  ANNF  DK  BKAUPRK. 


apparently  of  the  time  of  Louis  XIV.  By  the  roadside,  close  to  the  chapel,  stands  a 
rough  grotto  surmounted  by  the  image  of  the  sainte  set  in  a  niche,  over  which  again 
.JShere  is  a  cross.  Over  the  stones  pours  the  clear  water  of  a  spring  ;  this  the  pilgrims 
\ake  away  in  bottles,  for  the  sake  of  its  miraculous  healing  power.  Near-by  is  the  old 
presbytery,  and  farther  up  the  wooded  slope,  hidden  among  the  trees,  is  a  convent  of 
Hospital    Nuns.      Their   gentleness    and    kindness    to    the    sick    that    resort    here    should 


34 


FREXCII  CAXAniAN  LIFB 


siitticc    to    canonize    each  one    of    these    devoted   ladies,   whose    lives    are  as    beautiful    as 
their  surroundings. 

A  handsome  new  church  was  dedicated  in  1S76.  To  it  were  removed  the  old 
altar  and  pulpit,  both  of  the  seventeenth  centur\-,  and  the  relics  ami  original  ornaments 
of  the  old  church.  Among  thcs(!  are  an  altar-piece  b\-  Lc  Hrun,  the  gift  of  the 
Marquis  dc  Tracy;  a  silver  relicjuary,  and  a  painting  b\-  Le  I'rancois,  both  the  gilt 
of  Mons.  de  Laval  ;  a  chasuble  worketl  by  Anne  of  Austria,  and  a  bon*^  of  the  finger 
of  Ste.   Anne.       There  are  also  a    great    number    of   cx-voto    tablets     some   ver\-   old   aiiij 


OLD     HOUSKS    AT     I'OIN  r     LKVIS. 

by  good  masters — to  commemorate  deliverances  from  peril  at  sea,  for  Ste.  Anne  watcher 
specialh"  over  sailors  and  travellers.  Numbers  of  costly  vestments  have  also  been 
presented,  and  Pius  IX.,  in  addition  to  giving  a  fac  simile  of  the  miraculous  portrait 
of  Our  Lady  of  Perpetual  Help,  set  in  a  jewelled  frame,  issued  a  tlecree  declaring  ihf 
shrine  to  be  of  the  first   magnitude. 

There  are  many  other  places  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Quebec  which,  if  not  snii: 
exact  types  of  the  past  nor  so  varied  in  natural  features  as  is  the  Cote  de  Beauprc 
yet  afford  beauty  of    scenery,   historic  association,  and  opportunit)-   to    study    the    life   o' 


ANf)   CHARACTER  35 

the  people.      It  is  hard  to  choose,  but  a  few  should  he  visited,  and  among   these    Point 
Levis  stands  first  in  j^^coyrraphical  order  and  in  interest  of    all  kinds. 

Landing  at  Indian  Cove,  where  the  descendants  of  those  Iroquois,  who  got  from 
the  I^nglish  (jovernment  so  much  a-piece  for  every  I'Vench  scalp,  used  to  build  their 
wigwams,  to  await  the  distribution  of  the  annual  bounl\-,  on»;  finds  a  splendid  graving 
dock  being  built  on  the  ver)-  s[)Ot  where  they  hauled  up  their  bark  canoes.  The  cliff 
is  a  worthy  mate  for  Cape  Diamond.  From  its  tree-lined  summit  rolling  hills  covered 
with  houses,  tk-lds  and  woods,  so  that  the  country  looks  like  an  immense  [)ark,  stretch 
back  to  the  sky-line,  in  pleasant  contrast  with  the  abrupt  outline  of  the  other  shore. 
The  main  street  lies  between  the  river  and  the  jagged  face  of  the  rock.  At  each  end 
it  climbs  the  cliff  in  zigzags,  between  old  houses  whose  fantastic  shapes,  peaked  roofs 
and  heavy  balconies  make  the  place  seem  like  some  old  Norman  town.  At  one  {)oint 
where  a  spring  trickles  down  the  cliff,  a  wooden  stairway  leads  from  the  lower  to  the 
upper  town.  Close  by  stand  the  old  and  new  churches  of  .St.  Joseph,  the  latter  a  huge 
stone  building  of  the  usual  type,  the  former  a  rude  little  chapel,  with  an  image  of  the 
saint  in  a  niche  over  the  door.  Everywhere  there  is,  as  in  Quebec,  this  meeting  of 
the  old  and  the  new.  The  Intercolonial  Railway  trains  shake  the  foundations  of  the 
oUl  houses,  and  interrupt,  with  their  shrill  whistle,  the  chant  of  the  boys  at  vespers  in 
the  College  chai)el.  Tugs  puff  noisily  along  with  big  ships,  where  Wolfe's  Hotilla  stole 
so  silently  under  the  cliffs  the  night  before  the  battle  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  and 
barges  of  the  same  pattern  as  those  in  which  his  soldiers  crossed  lie  side  by  side 
with  Allan  steamships.  Back  of  the  heights  from  which  his  batteries  pounded  Quebec 
into  ruins,  and  where  Montgomery's  men,  wasted  with  their  winter  march  through  the 
wilds,  wait(;d  for  strength  to  carry  out  their  daring  attack,  three  motlern  forts  dominate 
the  South  Channel  and  the  land  approaches.  Planned  with  all  the  skill  of  the  Roj'al 
Engineers,  their  casemates  are  meant  for  guns  beside  which  the  cannon  that  last  did  their 
work  here  would  look  like  pop-guns.  The  view  from  them  is  superb.  On  the  east  a 
rol'ing  plateau,  densely  wooded,  stretches  to  the  distant  mountains  of  .Maine.  0[)posite 
stands  Quebec,  the  lower  town  in  deep  shadow  beneath  the  cliff,  the  upper  town 
glistening  in  the  sun.  Up  and  down  the  river  the  eye  can  roam  from  Cap  Rouge 
to  Crosse  Isle,  and  never  weary  of  the  colossal  e.xtent  of  mountain,  river  and 
forest. 

The  forts  are  in  charge  of  the  battery  of  Canadian  artillery  stationed  at  Quebec. 
Many  of  the  men  are  French-Canadians,  and  e.xcellent  soldiers  they  make.  In  cheerful 
submission  to  discipline,  respect  for  their  ofiPicers,  and  intelligence,  the  French  militia 
cor[)s  are  superior  to  the  English  in  the  rural  districts.  Among  the  Field  Artillery, 
the  most  technical  arm  of  the  service,— so  much  so,  indeed,  that  in  England  the  mili- 
tary authorities  have  not  yet  ventured  to  form  volunteer  batteries, — the  Quebec  Field 
Battery     composed    entirely    of    French-Canadians,  is    a    model    of    equipment,    drill    and 


.^ 


0 


6  /■•A7:".\'(  ■//  C :  I. v.  l/'/.I.V  LIFE 


discipline,  ami   is,  after  a    few   days    of    annual    training',  (juite  iindistinguishaljle  from  the 
permanently-embodied  corps  in   the  Citadel. 

About  five  miles  to  th(,'  northwest  of  Out-bec  is  the  Indian  villa^^e  of  l-orette. 
Hver\-  Charter  for  the  settlement  of  La  NouxelU;  I'rance  repeats  in  substance  the 
words  of  that  granted  b\-  Richelieu  to  the  Compan\-  of  the  One  llundreil  Associates, 
the  object  of  which  was  "to  endeavour  by  I)i\ine  assistance  to  lead  the  peo[)le  therein 
to  the  kiiowU'tl^e  of  the  true  Cod,  to  cause  them  to  be  disciplined  and  instruclc'cl  in 
the  Catholic,  Ajjostolic  and  Roman  faith."  In  fact  the  earlier  settlements  were  as 
professedly  missions  as  tradint,^  enterprises.  The  idea  of  a  rej^ular  colony  on  a  lart^e 
scale  did  not  take  shape  till  tlu'  time  of  Louis  XI\'.,  under  whom,  as  his  hereditary 
title  of  Most  Christian  Majestx'  demanded,  the  interests  of  religion  were  l)y  no  means 
a  secondar)-  consideration.  The  llurons  were  the  first  fruits  of  missionary  dexotion. 
In  1634  the  Jesuits  Hrebeuf,  Uaniel,  and  Dauost,  took  up  the  work  bes^un  1)\-  the 
RecoUet  fathers,  \'iel  and  Le  Caron,  and  the  Jesuit  Sa«;ard,  twelve  \ears  before. 
B_\-  1650  the  whole  nation  was  professedly  Christian.  The  descendants  of  these 
Hurons,  onl)-  a  few  hundreds  all  told,  are  (juite  civilized,  quiet,  orderly,  and  peace- 
able. Many  of  them  are  well  educated,  comfortably  off  and  cultivatini:,'-  good  farms. 
The  love  of  the  forest  and  of  the  chase  is,  however,  too  deep  in  their  natures  to 
be  totally  eradicated,  and  the  younger  men  are  fond  of  getting  awa\-  to  the  woods. 
You  never  tliul  an  Indian  ashamed  of  his  blootl  ;  these  still  call  themselves  proudly 
"The  Huron  Nation,"  and  on  official  occasions,  such  as  the  visit  of  a  Cio\ernor  or 
the  Indian  Commissioner,  their  chiefs  wear  full  Intlian  costume.  Among  them  are  a 
few  Abenakis  and  other  representatives  of  the  great  Algoncpiin  family,  to  which  the 
Montagnais  of  the  Lower  .St.  Lawrence,  the  only  really  "wild  Indians''  of  Lower 
Canada,  also  belong.  The  French  term  ''  Sauvagc"  is  much  more  e.\pressi\e  than 
"  Indian,"  but  seems  rather  a  misnomer  when  applied  to  some  of  the  fair-coniplexioned 
well-dressed  and  polished  inhabitants  of  Lorette,  among  whom  there  is  a  great  ad- 
mixture' of  white  blood.  They  do  a  large;  business  in  all  sorts  of  tMiibroider)-,  in 
.silk  and  porcupine  (piills  u[)on  birch-bark  and  deer-skin,  make  snow-shoes  beatl-work, 
moccasins,  and  other  curiosities.  The  old  church  is  shown  with  much  pride,  for  the 
Hurons  are  good  Catholics.  The  scliool  is  another  of  their  sights.  TIk;  children 
sing  with  a  vigour  suggestive  of  a  war-ilance  rather  than  a  lu'inn,  but  their  bright, 
intelligent  faces,  and  the  musical  name  of  the  performance,  reassure  one  as  to 
his  scalp.  They  get  thorough  instruction,  and  are  apt  pupils.  After  school  some 
of  them  are  always  ready  to  show  visitors  the  balls,  for  a  branch  of  the  St.  Charles 
runs  through  the  village,  and  as  has  been  said  before,  wherever  there  is  a  stream  in 
this  country  there  are  Falls,  A  paper-mill  intrudes  its  dam  upon  the  bed  of  the 
river  at  their  head,  and  spoils  what  was  once  a  grand  sheet  of  water  covering  with 
a  crystal    curtain    the    now    bare   rock ;   but   a   sharp   turn   in  the  deep  gorge  soon  hides 


I 


A.\7)   cn ARACriiR 


37 


I'ALI.S     OF     LOKKI  TE. 


38 


FRRNCII  CANADIAN  LIFE 


this,  and    the    view    from    below    has    nothiiii^  to   detract   from   its   miiii^ded  j^frandeiir  and 
loveliness,  to  which  words  cannot  do   justice. 


CAP    ROUGE. 


Following    the    south    shore    of    the    St.    Lawrence    from    I'oint    Levis    all    the    way 
up     to     the    Chaudiere     the     same     magnificent     panorama     repeats     itself     with     subtle 


CAPE     DIAMOND,     FROM    ST.     ROMUALU. 


gradations   as    distance    softens    down    the    details    of   the    landscape    and    new  features 
come    into    sight.      At    St.    Romuald    the    view    down    the    river    is    very   grand.       The 


AND   CHARACTER  30 

bold  outline  of  Cape  Diamond  stands  clear  cut  against  the  sky.  Heyond  are  the 
purple  peaks  that  close  in  on  the  St.  Charles,  and  the  misty  hills  that  surround  the 
headwaters  of  the  Montmorency  peep  through  the  pass  up  which  the  Charlesbourg 
road  winds  to  Lake  Beauport.  To  the  right  the  conical  mass  of  Mount  Ste.  Anne 
towers  over  the  ridge  of  Levis.  Below  runs  the  river  dark  under  the  shadow  of  banks 
seamed  with  leafy  coves,  but  losing  itself  in  the  sunshine  that  makes  fairyland  of  the 
iJeauport  shore.  Every  place  in  sight  has  some  historic  or  traditional  association  10 
add  another  charm. 

From  St.  Romuald  it  is  not  far  to  the  Chaudiere  Falls,  whose  abrupt  and  tremen- 
dous plunge  fully  justifies  their  name.  There  are  many  Chaudieres  in  Canada,  the  term 
being  generic,  but  this  "  Chaldron "  is  grand  and  tumultuous  enough  to  be  typical  of 
all,  and  to  name  the  whole  river.  It  and  the  Montmorency  F'alls  are  probably  but 
miniatures  of  the  unspeakably  magnificent  cataract  that  once  must  have  existed  at  Cap 
Rouge,  that  grand  promontory  seven  miles  above  Quebec,  where  the  great  rock  cliffs 
close  in  and  confine  the  St.  Lawrence  into  river-like  dimensions.  There  are  strong 
indications  that  the  river  must  once  have  been  dammed  up  here  behind  a  great  barrier, 
over  which,  just  as  its  tributaries  now  find  their  way  into  it  over  the  surrounding 
plateau,  it  flowed  into  the  sea  in  a  Hood  compared  with  which  Niagara  would  be  a 
driblet.  In  some  of  the  mighty  convulsions  that  heaved  the  Laurentian  rocks — the 
oldest  geological  formation  of  all — from  their  depths,  and  shaped  their  towering  peaks, 
this  barrier  must  have  given  way  and  the  stream  have  fallen  to  its  present  level. 

The  rich  red  rock  which  gives  it  its  name  and  the  bold  outline  of  its  cliff,  make 
Cap  Rouge  as  conspicuous  as  Cape  Diamond.  On  this  '' pronioiitoirc  hiiitc  ct  raidc" 
Jacques  Cartier  built  a  fort,  to  guard  his  ships  when  he  returned  to  Stcdacona  on  his 
third  voyage,  in  1541,  and  Roberval  wintered  there  the  following  year,  rebu  Iding  Carrier's 
fort,  and  naming  it  "  France  Roy,"  in  honour  of  the  King.  The  beauty  of  the  forests 
that  crown  the  cliffs  and  the  fertility  of  the  soil  are  still  as  remarkable  as  when  Cartier 
wrote  of  the  ''fort  donncs  ct  belles  terres  pleines  d'anssi  heaitx  et  ptiissants  arbres  que  ron 
pnissc  voir  au  monde." 

Along  the  river  in  the  autumn,  wild  ducks  and  geese  appear  in  large  numbers,  while 
farther  back  partridges  and  wild  pigeons  are  abundant,  and  trout  can  always  be  had  for 
the  catching.  Many  of  the  habitans  are  very  skilful  with  rod  and  gun,  rivalling  the 
Indian  half-breeds — wiry,  long-haired,  black -visaged,  wild-looking  fellows,  who  make  a 
regular  business  of  shooting  and  fishing.  Down  the  Gulf  fish  is,  of  course,  the  great 
stand-by.  Eels,  which  swarm  in  the  mouths  of  the  streams,  are  speared  in  immense 
numbers.  They  are  a  favourite  dainty,  and  are  salted  for  winter  use,  as  are  also  great 
quantities  of  wild  fowl. 

These  peeps  at  the  country  about  Quebec  might  be  prolonged  indefinitely,  such  is 
the  number  of   charming  spots  to    be  reached   by  an  easy  drive.       But  all    this   time  we 


40 


FRENCH  CAN  API  AX  IJFE 


LIGHT-SHIP     ON      IHK     S !'.     I.AWKKNCK. 


have  been  lookinjr  at    the  habitant  in  a    long-cultivated,   thickh-settlecl    region,  and  there 

is    another    phase    of    his    life    which    can    only    be    seen    in    the    wilds.       A    journey    up 

the    St.    Maurice    gives    good    opportunity    for 

appreciating  it,  but    to    get  to  the  St.   Maurice 

one     must    go    to    Three    Rivers,    and     by    far 

the    best    way    of    doing    this    is    to    make    the 

night    voyage    up    the    St.     Lawrence    by    the 

Richelieu    Company's    steamer.       A    moonlight 

scene  on   the  St.    Lawrence  is  such  as  to  leave 

a  deep  impression  of  the  majesty  of  the   great 

river   up    which    Cartier    toiled    for    a   fortnight 

to  reach  Stadacona,  far  beyond  which  he  heard 

there    was     "a    great    sea    of    fresh    water,    of 

which  there    is   no  mention    to    have    seen    the 

end."      The    way    is    not    less    well    marked    in 

summer  than  in  winter.     Lio-ht-houses  stand  at 

every  bend,  while  buoys  and  light-ships,  moored 

in   midstream,  point    out    the    channel.      When 

night  has  closed  in,  the  twinkle  of  the  far  light 

is    reflected    across    the    water    for    miles,    broadening    out    at    last    into    brilliant    glare ; 

beneath  one  gets  a  momentary  glimpse  of   the  black  hull  and  square    tower   of   a   light- 


HALI-ERKKU     IISHKRMAN. 


si*'- 


AND  ClfARACTER  41 

sliip,  with  weird  shadov/s  moving  across  \\\v.  cheerful  gleam  from  the  cosy  cabin.  Uuge 
Miick  masses  loom  up  suddenly  and  i,did('  past  in  silence.  Long,  snake-like  monsters 
arc  left  snorting  astern.  A  group  of  water  demons  sing  in  wild  chorus  round  a  float- 
ing blaze.  All  manner  of  strange  stars  flicker  low  down  on  the  horizon,  changing  their 
lines  with  sudden  flashes.  Everything  is  dim,  shadow)'  and  weird,  till,  suddenly,  the 
moon  bursts  through  the  heavy  clouds,  shows  the  dull  outline  of  the  distant  bank, 
gleams  white  on  the  canvas  of  a  passing  ship,  reveals  the  long  string  of  deep-laden 
barges  following  the  sobbing  tug,  and  dims    the  brightness  of  the  raftsmen's  fire. 

Three  Rivers  dates  far  back  in  the  history  of  French  colonization  in  Canada. 
On  one  of  the  islands  at  the  mouth  of  the  noble  tributary  which  here  enters  the 
St.  Lawrence,  Cartier,  in  1534,  planted  a  cross  in  the  name  of  the  King  of  I*" ranee. 
In  1599  Pontgrave  gave  it  the  name  of  Riviere  des  Trois  Rivieres,  from  the  appearance 
wliich  two  of  the  islands  give  it  of  being  three  separate  streams  ;  Cartier  had  christened 
it  Riviere  de  I'^oie,  from  the  Breton  family  of  that  name.  Champlain  and  Pontgrave 
ascended  it  as  far  as  the  first  rapids,  and  a  little  later  Champlain  made  the  mouth  of 
tlic  stream  a  rendezvous  for  the  Hurons  who  joined  him  in  his  expedition  against  the 
Irocpiois,  the  river  being  the  highway  of  the  tribes  who  came  from  the  interior  to 
barter  furs  with  the  French  traders,  having  been  driven  away  from  the  St.  Lawrence 
by  the  Iroquois.  Traces  of  an  old  Algonquin  stockade  that  stood  where  the  upper  town 
is  now,  and  was  destroyed  before  Champlain's  time,  were  found  when  the  boulevard 
facing  the  St.   Lawrence  was  made. 

One  of  the  Recollet  fathers  who  came  with  Champlain  in  161 5,  celebrated  the 
first  mass.  Colonists  came  two  years  later,  and  a  mission  was  founded.  In  1634 
a  regular  trading  depot  was  established,  as  Pontgrave  had  proposed  to  do  long  before, 
when  Tadoussac  was  preferred  by  his  superior  Chauvin.  I'or  a  long  time  this  was  the 
extreme  outpost  of  the  French,  and  was  held  only  by  exceeding  vigilance  and  bravery, 
which  more  than  once  saved  Quebec  from  imminent  danger.  In  1624  Champlain's 
diplomacy  brought  together  here  one  of  the  greatest  assemblages  of  Indians  ever 
known  upon  the  Continent,  and  secured  a  treaty  of  peace  between  Hurons,  Algonquins, 
Iroquois,  and  French.  The  Mohawks  could  not  long  resist  the  desire  to  use  their 
newly-acquired  fire-arms  furnished  by  the  Dutch  and  English,  and  then  followed  the 
bloody  scenes  which  ended  only  with  the  arrival  of  the  long  prayed-for  troops  from 
I* ranee  in  1665.  The  Hurons  and  Algonquins  were  almost  exterminated,  and  the 
French  were  sore  pressed.  This  was  the  heroic  age  of  the  colony  so  vigorously 
described  by  Parkman.  The  fur-traders  of  Three  Rivers  bore  their  part  in  it  well, 
and  when  there  was  no  more  fighting  to  do  their  venturesome  spirits  found  outlet  in 
the  existing  work  of  exploration,  for  with  the  establishment  of  Montreal  the  im- 
portance of  Three  Rivers  as  a  trading-post  had  begun  to  decline,  and  the  necessity 
of   being    farther  afield,    to   say  nothing  of    the     half-wild    nature     of    the    courcuis  de 


42 


FRENCH  CANADIAX  LIFE 


bois,  led  thcin  on.  The  Miissionarics  whose  outpost,  in  the  crusiulc  ai^rainst  Satan 
and  his  Indian  alHes,  Three  Rivers  also  was,  had  set  them  an  ('xaniplc.  Jean 
Nicolet  lived  and  died  here,  antl  the  old  Chateau  of  the  CJoxernors;  in  which 
La    X'erendraye    lived,    still    stands. 

Not   far    from    the    Chateau    is    the    ori_i,dnal    parish    church,    the    oldest    in    Canada 


INTKKIOK     OK     I'AKISH     CHURCH. 


except  the  one  at  Tadoussac.  It  has  the  oldest  records,  for  those  of  Ouelicc  were 
burned  in  1640.  They  bef^jin  on  I''ebruary  6th,  i6;,5,  in  Pere  Le  Jeune's  handwriting, 
with  the  statement  that  M.  de  la  Violette,  sent  by  Champlain  to  found  a  habilation, 
landed  at  Three   Rivers  on  July  4th,   1634,  with  a  party  of  French,  mostly  artizans,   and 


AND   ClfARACTER 


43 


iommenced  the  work  ;  that  the  Jesuits  Le  Jeune  and  Buteux  came  on  the  8th  of 
Scptemb(.'r,  to  be  with  them  for  the  salvation  of  their  souls,  and  that  several  of  them 
died  of  scurvy  during-  the  winter.  The  chapel  of  the  Jesuit  mission  served  till  1664, 
when  a  wooden  church,  with    presbytery,   cemetery    and    garden,  was    built.      I'ifty    years 


OLD    CHLMNHV     AND    CHATEAU. 


later  the  stone  church  that  yet  stands  on  a  corner  of  the  oUI  parochial  property  was 
erected  ;  it  is  an  interestinj^r  relic  of  a  by-i^rone  time,  and  its  hallowc'd  associations  make 
it  for  the  devout  Roman  Catholic  a  place  from  which  the  grand  new  Cathedral  canncjt 
draw  him. 

The    beauty    of    the    rich   oak    carving   which    lines    the    whole     interior    was     sadly 


44 


FRENCH  CANADIAX  LIFE 


destroyed  by  a  spasm  of  cleanliness  on  the  part  of  the  authorities,  who  a  few 
years  ag>j  painted  it  white,  but  fortunately  this  style  of  renovation  has  not  crone 
farther,  and  the  old  paintings  and  sculpture,  of  which  there  is  a  profusion,  remain 
intact.     The  church  is  dedicated   to  the   Immaculate  Conception. 

The  curd  and 
the  margnillicrs 
form  the  fa- 
briqiic,  or  admin- 
istrative body  of 
the  corporation 
which  every  par- 
ish constitutes. 
The  curia's  share 
in  temporal  mat- 


ters   is,  however,    limited    to    the 

presidenc)-    of    all    meetings,    and 

in  this  as  well  as  in   the  keeping 

of   registers    of    civil   status  he  is 

a  public  officer,  constrainable  by 

7nanda))iHs  to  the  exercise   of  his 

duties.       He  appoints   the  choristers,    keeps  the    keys,    and    has    the    right    to    be    buried 

beneath    the    choir    of    the    church,    even    in    Quebec    and    Montreal,    where    interments 

within  the  city  limits  are  prohibited. 

The  parishes  are  designated  in  the  first  place  by  the  bishop,  and  are  then  civilly 
constituted  by  the  Lieutenant-Governor  on  the  report  of  five  commissioners  under  the 
Great  Seal,  after  all  parties  have  been  heard.  Being  corporations,  their  powers  are  de- 
fined,  and   exercise    of   them    regulated  by  the  civil    law.      The    revenues  are   raised  and 


AND   CHARACTER  45 

extraordinary  expenses  defrayed  by  assessment  approved  by  general  meetings.  The 
irimner  in  which  the  ciirt's  are  paid  varies  a  good  deal.  They  are  legally  entitled  to 
a  tithe  in  kind,  of  one  portion  in  twenty-six  on  all  grain  grown  in  the  parish  by  Roman 
Catholics,  except  upon  lands  newly-cleared,  which  are  exempt  for  the  first  five  years.  The 
lithe  must  be  thrashed,  winnowed,  and  put  in  the  priest's  barn.  In  many  parts  of  the 
Province,  however,  what  is  known  as  the  supploncut — a  money  payment — takes  the  place 
of,  or  is   combined  with,   the  tithe. 

The  St.  Maurice  Forges,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  St.  Maurice  Ri\er.  about  seven 
miles  above  Three  Rivers,  are  the  oldest  smelting  furnaces  in  Canada,  and  dispute 
with  those  of  Principio,  in  Maryland,  the  right  to  be  considered  the  oldest  in  America. 
The  deposits  of  bog-ore  were  known  very  earh'  to  the  Jesuits.  In  1668  they  were 
examined  by  the  Sieur  la  Potardien,  who  reported  unfavourably  to  the  Intendant  Talon 
as  to  their  quantity  and  quality.  Frontenac  and  Ue  Denonville  gave  a  better  account 
of  them,  and  it  seems  that  tests  were  made  before  the  year  1700.  It  was  not  till  1737. 
however,  that  a  company  wp'  '^ound  to  work  them.  This  company  was  granted  a  large 
tract,  including  the  site  where  the  Old  Forges  now  stand,  and  erected  furnaces,  but 
exhausted  its  capital,  and  in  i  740  had  to  surrender  its  charter.  The  Covernment  carried 
on  the  works  very  successfully,  as  a  report  of  the  Colonial  Inspector  Tranquet  shows, 
and  must  have  extended  them,  as  appears  b)-  the  erection  of  the  old  Chateau  that  stands 
on  a  flat  bluff  overlooking  the  river.  On  an  iron  plate  in  its  chimney  are  the  official 
Jhurs  dc  lis  and  the  date  1752.  Its  walls,  some  two  and  a  half  feet  thick,  withstood  the 
tire  that  destroyed   its  woodwork  in    1863. 

A  brook  fiows  through  the  ravine  immediately  below  the  Chateau.  It  furnished 
water-power  for  the  oldest  works,  remains  of  which  are  to  be  seen  near  its  mouth.  The 
attachments  of  an  old  shaft  show  that  a  trip-hammer  was  used,  and  there  are  other  signs 
of  extensive  works  for  making  wrought  iron.  Vxom  250  to  300  men  were  employed, 
under  directors  who  had  gained  their  skill  in  Sweden.  Many  of  the  articles  made  then — 
notably  stoves — still  attest  the  quality  of  the  iron  and  of  the  work.  Pigs  and  bars  were 
sent  to  I'Vance.  During  the  war,  shot  and  shell  were  cast.  When  the  iMiglish  came  to 
take  possession,  the  Chateau  was  occupied  by  a  Demoiselle  Poulin,  who  threw  the  keys 
into  the  river  rather  than  yield  them.  Legends  of  mysterious  lights  antl  buried  treasure 
cling  to  the  place.  After  the  Conquest  the  works  were  leased  to  pri\ate  persons,  and 
have  passed  through  several  hands  before  coming  into  those  of  the  present  owners,  who 
use  most  of    the  product  in   the  manufacture  of   car-wheels  at  Three   Rivers. 

The  original  blast-furnace,  or  cupola — a  huge  block  of  granite  masonry,  thirty  feet 
s()uare  at  the  base — is  still  used  for  smelting ;  the  fire  has  rarely  been  extinguished, 
except  for  repairs,  during  the  past  150  years.  In  a  deep-arched  recess  is  the  "dam" 
from  which  the  molten  metal  is  drawn  into  beds  of  sand,  to  cool  into  pigs.  During  the 
time    between    "runs"    or   "casts"  glowing    slag    is    continually    being   drawn    off.      The 


\k 


r' 


FRENCir  CANADIAX   UFE 


cupola  is  kept  filled  from  the  top  with  ore,  broken  limestone,  and  charcoal.  TIk;  latter 
is  made  in  immense  kilns  near  the  fortje,  from  wood  furnished  in  abundance  by  the  sur- 
rounding forests.  Against  the  volumes  of  white  vapour  from  these  kilns  the  old  iron- 
works stand  out,  gloomy  and  black  with  the  smoke  and  grime  of  generations.  The 
limestone  is  obtained  a  short  distance  up  the  river,  and  th(;  ore — dark-red  spongy  stuff, 
yielding  forty  per  cent,  of  iron — is  brought  in  by  the  liabitans,  who  find  it  between  two 
beds  of  sand  on  land  that  yields  no  crops,  so  that  they  are  only  too  glad  to  dig  it  up. 
The  works  are  surrounded  by  a  little  hamlet  of  workmen's  cottages.  An  amphitheatre 
of    wooded  hills  surrounds  the   scene.       These    rise    gradually  to  the  left,   and  over  them 


I-AI.LS     UK      TlIK     C  ll.\Ll)li;i-;i:— NKAR     (ILKHKC. 


is  seen  the  dark  outline  of  the  Laurcntian  range,  against  which  is  s(?t  th<'  gleaming  spire 
of  St.  Mtienne  Church.  The  lesser  hills,  across  tile  St.  Maurice  to  the;  right,  an!  t()|)ped 
by  Mount  Carmel,  and  far  up  the  stream  the  Shawenegan  Mountains  cons(jrt  with  the 
Piles  peaks. 

There  is,  perhaps,  nothing  in  Canada  that  mon;  forcibly  strikes  the  b'.nglish  e\e  than 
the  wild  and  sih-nt  grandeur  of  our  mighty  rivers.  Though  onl\-  ranking  third  among 
the  tributaries  of  the  St.  LawrtMice,  the  .St.  Maurices  is  a  noble  stream.  During  spring 
and  early  summer  it  becomes  a  raging  flood  fed  l)y  the  nu'lting  snow  and  rains  of  the 
great  north(;rn  wat(?r-shed,  and  even  when  the  parching  lu-at  of  summer  has  dried  up  its 
sources  it  remains  a  navigable  stream   nearly  a  c|uarter  of  a  mile  wide  far  above  its  mouth. 


AND   CHARACTER 


47 


X, 

J 

-J 


•J 


48 


FREXCH  CANADIAN  LIFE 


Far  to  the  north,  220  miles  from  the  St.  Lawrence,  this  river  rises  in  a  net-work 
of  lakes  and  small  water-courses,  which  feed  also  its  elder  brothers,  the  Ottawa  and 
the    Saguenay.       It    pursues    its    tortuous    way    in   a    main    direction   nearly  south,    while 


/  vW 


HEAD    or     SH/\\VENt:GAN     FALLS. 


the  others  diverge  so  widely  to  the  west  and  east  that  their  several  dcbonchcments  into 
the  St.  Lawrence  are  divided  by  a  space  of  more  than  three  hundred  miles.  All  the 
upper  part  of  the  St.  Maurice's  traverses  are  unbroken  wilderness,  untrodden  by  the  foot 
of  man,  except  the  few  Indians  and  trappers  who  yet  represent  the  aboriginal  occupants, 
the  Hudson's  Hay  voyagcurs  and  traders  who  still  use  this  route  as  a  means  of  access  to 
their  remoter  posts,  and  the  lumberers  whose  camps  and  shanties  have  been  already 
pushed  two  hundred  miles  back  into  the  interior,  and  the  ring  of  whose  axes  is  heard 
at  the  head  of  every  stream  down  which  a  saw-log  can  be  floated  in  the  freshets  of  the 


LVn   CHARACTER 


49 


Sprin^,^  Nothing  can  be  more  lovely  than  the  constantly  varied  and  unexpected  beauty 
of  the  reaches  of  river,  lake  and  stream,  the  water-falls,  rapids,  wild  rocks,  densely-wooded 
hills  and  forest  glades  with  which  this  wild   region   is  filled. 

One  hundred  miles  from  its  mouth  the  river  meets  civilization  at  the  foot  of  the 
wild  I'^dls  of  the  "Tuque"  (so  called  from  the  fancied  resemblance  of  a  hill  in  the 
\icinity  to  the  b'rench-Canadian  head-gear  of  that  name),  in  the  form  of  a  steamer  which 

traverses    a    stretch    of    sixty    miles     to     the 
"  Piles,"  whence  a  railway  to  the  front  gives 
the  go-by  to  the    formidable  but  picturesque 
rapids  and    falls  of    the    Lower  St.    Maurice. 
The    first    of    these    is    the    Grais,    so-called 
because    the    old    portage  led    across    granite 
rocks  now  occupied  by  a  saw-mill  and 
all   its    unlovely  litter  of    lumber,    saw- 
-L'lc/'i^  dust    and    slabs.      Here  the  river 

dashes  itself  over  and  through 
enormous  rocks,  which  cause  twin 
falls  and  a  boiling  rapid.  A 
few  evergreens  cling  to  t'le 
rocks,  and  a  low  bench  supports 
a  scant  growth  of  bushes,  but 
above  the  river  the  tree-clad 
heights  rise  in  successive  steps. 
The  unlimited  water-power 
has  caused  the  place  to  be  se- 
lected as  the  headquarters  of 
one  of  the  vast  lumbering  estab- 
lishments whose  chiefs  are  kings 
in  all  but  name.  The  proprietor 
of  this  establishment  is  practically 
king  of  tlu;  St.  Maurice.  The 
farmers,  who  compose  the  scant 
population  of  the  neighbourhood, 
are  dependent  upon  him  for  a 
market  and  for  supplies  of  all 
the)'^  need  from  the  outside  world.  Their  crops  are  consumed  by  his  horses  and  men, 
and  their  sons  and  brothers  find  employment  in  his  service.  The  village  about  the  mill 
is  his  property  and  thc!  inhabitants  are  his  servants.  Hundreds  of  men  and  horses,' 
under  the  direction    of   scores    of  foremen,  labour  for   him    through    summer  and  winter, 


LITTI.K     SUAWKN'KGAN. 


50  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE 

undergoing  the  severest  toil  and  perilling  their  lives  to  carry  out  his  behests.  His 
will  is  their  law,  his  wages  are  their  subsistence,  and  j)r()motion  in  his  service  is 
their  reward.  Every  foreman  is  chosen  from  the  ranks  of  this  great  family.  Should 
one  of  them  take  service  with  a  rival  house,  he  can  never  return  to  his  allegiance. 
Great  qualities  of  leadership  are  required  for  success  in  these  vast  enterprises,  but  if  the 
rule  of    the  lumber  king  is  despotic,   it  is  also  patriarchal  and   beneficent. 

For  some  distance  above  the  Grais  settlements  continue  on  both  sides  of  the  river, 
but  the  stream  itself  is  generally  flanked  by  forest.  High  hills  rise  abruptly  from  its 
edge,  and  the  land  is  a  succession  of  well-defined  benches.  Good  soil  is  found  in  the 
intervales  of  the  tributaries,  but  some  distance  from  the  main  river  which  in  its  course 
through  the  mountains  forms  many  rapids  and  falls.  The  grandest  of  these  are  the 
Shawenegan  Falls,  twenty-four  miles  from  Three  Rivers.  The  river  is  narrowed  between 
two  projecting  points,  and  divided  by  a  rocky  island  into  two  channels  of  equal  volume. 
The  twin  streams  roll  placidly  for  a  while.  Suddenly  a  swift  rush  begins,  and  their 
tawny  water  breaks  into  tossing  foam.  The  right  branch  comes  down  with  more  direct 
course,  dashed  into  white  masses  that  rise,  like  fountains,  perpendicularly  into  the  air, 
and  scatter  their  glittering  beads  of  spray  in  wild  profusion.  The  left  branch  sweeps 
round  the  island,  and  far  up  the  narrow  channel  its  stream  can  be  seen,  now  reflecting 
the  banks  like  a  mirror  and  now  tumbling  over  steps  of  shelving  rock  which  stand  darkly 
out  of  the  variously-broken  and  lighted  water.  The  play  of  colour  from  seal-brown  to 
shining  white  is  magnificent,  and  doubtless  suggested  the  Indian  name  Shawenegan,  or 
needlework,  the  "divers  colours  of  needlework  finely  wrought."  The  left  fall  curves  till 
at  right  angles  to  the  other,  when,  meeting,  they  press  upon  and  past  a  rocky  point 
which  stands  out  full  against  their  united  force  when  the  water  is  low,  but  is  swept  by 
the  Spring  fioods.  Recoiling  from  its  impetuous  leaps  against  its  adamantine  barriers, 
the  torrent  sweeps  down  another  long  incline  between  walls  of  rock  into  a  capacious 
bay,  whose  surface  heaves  as  if  with  the  panting  of    the  water  resting  after  its  mad  rush. 

Into  this  bay  enters  the  Shawenegan  River,  easily  ascended  by  canoe,  first  through 
elm  glades  and  restful  fiats,  and  then  by  sinuous  turns  between  steep  banks  covered  with 
spruce  and  birch,  till  the   Little  Shawenegan  Falls  burst  on  the  view  in  excjuisite  loveliness. 

In  the  quieter  stretches  of  the  St.  Maurice  there  are  many  islands.  These  and  the 
banks  of  the  stream  are  beautifully  wooded  even  up  difficult  steeps,  rising  far  above  the 
water's  edge.  Every  here  and  there  a  mountain  wall  shadows  the  river,  and  breaks  the 
forest  greens  with  the  purple  and  golden  glories  of  the  shrubs  that  alone  can  find  hold 
upon  its  rugged  face.  Deep,  gloomy  gorges,  through  which  come  glimpses  of  a  world 
of  hills,  mark  the  entrances  of  tributary  streams.  The  grandeur  and  loveliness  intensifies 
the  mysterious  solitude  of  the  wilderness.  Such  is  the  country  to  which  nearly  three 
hundred  years  ago  the  habitant  first  came. 


AiXD   CI  JAR  ACT RR 


QUEBEC— A     GLIMPSE     KKUM     THE     ULU     CllY     WALL. 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AND  DESCRIPTIl'E 


53 


Quebec:     Historical  and   Descriptive. 

QUEBEC 


HISTORICAL     REVIEW. 


/^"COMPARATIVELY  speaking;,  Canada  has  not  much  of  an  historical  past,  but  all 
^-^  that  it  has  from  Jaccjues  Cartier's  day  clusters  round  this  cannon-girt  promon- 
tory; not  much  of  a  present,  but  in  taking  stock  of  national  outfit,  Quebec  should 
count  for  something; — indeed,  would  count  with  any  people.  We  have  a  future,  and 
with  it  that  great  red  rock  and  the  red-cross  flag  that  floats  over  it  are  inseparably 
bound  up. 

The  glowing  pages  of  Parkman  reveal  how  much  can  be  made  of  our  past.  A  son 
(if  the  soil  like  Le  Moine,  who  has  an  hereditary  right  to  be  animated  by  the  genius 
/(>ct\  whose  Boswell-like  conscientiousness  in  chronicling  everything  connected  with  the 
sacred  spot  deserves  all  honourable  mention,  may  exaggerate  the  importance  of  the  city 
and  the  country,  its  past  and  its  present.  Hut  truer  far  his  extreme — if  extreme  it  be — than 
\ Oltaire's  or  La  Pompadour's,  and  their  successors'  in  our  own  day.  The  former  thought 
!•  ranee  well  rid  of  "fifteen  thousand  acres  of  snow,"  with  an  appreciation  of  the  subject 
like  unto  his  estimate  of  those  " Juifs  miserablcs"  about  whose  literature  the  world  was 
ni)t  likely  to  trouble  itself  much  longer  when  it  could  get  the  writings  of  the  French 
I'hilosophcs  instead.  The  latter  heartily  agreed  with  him,  for — with  Montcalm  dead — 
"at  last  the  King  will  have  a  chance  of  sleeping  in  peace."  To  us  it  seems  that  the 
nort  which  for  a  century  and  a  half  was  the  head-quarters  of  France  in  the  New  World, 
the  door  by  which  she  entered  and  which  could  be  closed  against  all  others,  the  centre 
from  which  she  aimed  at  the  conquest  of  a  virgin  continent  of  altogether  unknown  extent, 


54  /'7x'/:\C7/  (■.l.\:i/)/,l.\'   /.//'7:    . /A7-'    (//.IA'.I(77:A' 

and  from  which  her  adventurous  children  set  forth — lon^'-rohcul  missionaries  leadinuj  the 
way,  trappers  and  solilitjrs  foHowinj; — until  they  had  estal)nslicd  themselves  at  every 
strat»!jfic  point  on  lh(.'  St.  Lawrence,  the  (ireat  Lakes,  the  ( )hio,  and  the  Mississippi 
from  the  I'alls  of  St.  Anthony  lo  Xew  Orleans,  must  always  have  historical  and  poetic 
significance.  The  city  anil  the  Province  which  for  tin;  next  hundred  and  twenty  years 
ha\('  remain(.'d  I*"rench  in  appearance  and  I'Vench  to  the  core,  yet  have  foui,dit  repeatedly 
and  are  ri.-ady  to  lii^ht  a^^ain  side  \)y  side;  with  the  retl-coats  of  (ireat  Britain  the  best 
proof  surel)'  that  men  can  i^nvc-  of  loyal  alleij^iance ;— which  prcser\e  old  Norman  and 
i5rclon  customs  and  traits,  and  modes  of  thouL;ht  and  faith  that  the  l\e\()liition  has 
sul)m."rL;('d  in  the  l''rance  of  iheir  fore-fathers,  fondly  nursing-  the  seveiiteciuh  century  in 
th('  lap  of  the  ninet(;enth,  must,  perhaps  l)e)()nil  any  other  spot  in  North  Aim;rica,  have 
an   interest   for  the  artist  and  the  statesman. 

In  the  sixteenth  ccntur\'  the  L,fallant  I'Vancis  I.  made  sexcn  attempts  to  j^ive  I'Vance 
a  share  in  that  wonderful  New  World  which  Columhus  had  disclosed  to  an  unhelievinL; 
jreneration.  hut  like  his  attempts  in  other  ilirections  the)'  came  to  nothinj^-.  in  15^5  he 
put  three  liltU;  vessels  under  the  orders  of  Jaccjues  Cartier,  a  skilful  naviiL,fator.  a  pious 
ami  l)ra\e  man,  well  worthy  of  the  patent  of  nobility  which  he  afterwards  reci-ived,  instruct- 
ing him  to  proceed  uj)  the  hro.id  water-way  he  had  discovered  the  _\-eiir  before,  until  he 
reached  the  Indies.  llis  duties  were  to  win  new  realms  for  Mother  Church,  as  a 
comptMisation  for  thosi;  sin;  was  losini^  thr()UL;h  Lullu;ran  antl  Calvinistic  heresies,  and  to 
brin^'  back  his  schooners  full  of  yellow  j^old  and  ros\-  pearls.  Thus  would  his  labours 
redound  to  the  glory  of  Ciod  and  the  _i;()()d  of  brance.  Jactpies  Cartier  crossi'd  the 
ocean  and  saili^d  up  the  mat^nificent  water-wa),  piously  j^ivint,''  to  it  the  name  of  the  saint 
on  whose  fete-day  he  had  first  entered  its  wide-extendetl  port.ds.  bor  luuulreds  of  mik^s 
the  ri\er  kept  its  threat  breadth,  more  likt;  a  sea  than  a  rixer,  till  thi'  hun'e  bluff  of 
Quebec,  seen  from  afar,  ap])ear(;d  to  close  it  abruptly  at.,'ainst  farther  advance.  \W  mi-aiis 
of  this  bluff  thrust  into  tin;  str(;am  antl  tin.'  opposite  point  of  Levis  stretchini;-  out  to  meet 
it,  the  view  is  actually  narrowet!  to  three  cpiarters  of  a  mile.  Coasting'  up  between  the 
north  shore  and  a  larL,^(;  beautiful  island,  he  came,  on  the  14th  of  September,  to  the 
mouth  of  a  little  tribular)-,  which  he  called  the  .Ste,  Croix,  from  the  fete  celebratetl  on 
that  da\'.  Here  he  cast  anchor,  for  now  the  time  had  come  to  laiul  antl  mak(;  intpiiries. 
It  nei'tled  no  ])rophet  to  tell  that  the  |)f)wer  which  held  that  dark  retl  bluff  would  hold  the 
ke\-  to  the  country  bejond.  The  nati\es,  with  thinr  chief  Donnacona,  patklled  out  in 
their  birch-bark  canoes  to  t,''aze  upon  tlu;  strange  \isitants  who  had  -  in  s^reat  white-winded 
castles  surel)-  swooped  down  upon  them  from  another  worltl.  Cartier  treatetl  them  kindly. 
They  willinL;l\"  guided  him  throui^h  the  primeval  forest  to  their  town  on  the  banks  ot 
the  little  river,  antl  to  the  sununit  of  the  rock  untler  tin;  shatlow  of  which  the\'  hatl  built 
their  \vitr\vams.  What  a  landscapi;  for  an  explorer  to  i^^aze  upon  I  Shore  and  forest  bathed 
in   the  mellow  light  of    the  September  sun    for    forty  miles  up    and    down    both    sides    ol 


QUfiiiEC:  HISTORIC  A  r.  A.YP  Dnsciarrn'F. 


55 


I'lR'  j^Horious  stream!  Wealth  enoiijL,fh  there  to  satisfy  even  a  kinj^f's  pilot  and  captain- 
.general.  Between  the  siininiit  and  thi-  river  far  heh)\v  he  may  have  seen  amid  th(.'  shite 
ilu;  jrhtter  of  the  quart/  crystals  from  which  the  rock  afterwards  received  its  name  of 
(ape  Diamond.  Certainly,  on  his  n<-.\t  voyaji^e  he  j^^athered  specimens  from  Cap  Rouge. 
Hut  the  great  attraction  must  have  been  the  river  itself,  (lowing  past  with  the  tribute  of 
an  unknown  continent.  Its  green  waters  swept  round  the  feet  of  vhe  mighty  Cape,  lie 
could  cast  a  stone  into  the  current,  for  at  high  tide  it  rolled  right  up  to  the  base  of  the 
rock.  The  narrow  strip  of  land  that  now  extends  between  rock  and  river,  crowded  with 
the  houses  of  Champlain  Street,  was  not  there  then.  The  street  has  been  won  from  the 
waters  and  the  rock  by  man,  whose  greed  for  land  even  the  boundless  spaces  of  the  New 


.\RKi\Ai.  ur  .iAt(,)ri;s  cakiii.k  ai  si ahacona. 

\\ Orld  cannot  satisfy.  The  ground  tliat  slopi-d  down  to  the  Ste.  Croi.x,  at  the  mouth  of 
which  his  vessels  lay  at  anchor,  was  covered  with  tlie  finest  hard-wood  trees — walnuts,  oaks, 
ilins,  ashes,  and  maples — and  among  these  the  bark-cabins  of  Uonnacona's  tribe  could  be 
seen.  They  called  their  town  Stadacona.  To  this  day  no  name  is  more  popular  with  the 
]i(Ople  of  Quebec.  Any  new  enterprise  that  may  be  projected,  from  a  skating-rink  to 
a  bank   or  steamship  compan\',   prefers  Stadacona  to  an\'  other  name. 

All  tlu;  wav  down  to  CaiJ  Tourmente  and  round  the  horizon  formed  b\-  the  hr-clothed 
summits  of  the  Laurentides  that  enclosed  the  wide-e.xtended-landscape,  an  unbroken  forest 
ranged.  The  picture,  seen  from  the  Citadel  on  Cape  Diamond  to-day,  is  as  fair  as  the 
eye  can  desire  to  see.  The  sun  shines  on  the  glittering  roofs  of  Quebec,  and  the 
continuous    village  of    clean  white  houses  extending  miles    down  to  the    white    riband  of 


56  FREXC/f  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

Montmorency,  and  on  cultivatetl  fields  riinnini^  up  into  still  unbroken  wilderness,  and 
on  the  broad  river  basin  enclosing  the  island,  in  the  forest  (blades  of  which  wild  i^rapes 
grew  so  luxuriantly  that  Cartier  enthusiastically  called  it  Isle  of  Bacchus.  But  then 
it  was  in  all  its  virgin  glory,  and  Cartier's  soul  swelled  with  the  emotions  of  a  discoverer, 
with  exultation  and  boundless  hope.  Did  it  not  belong  to  him,  did  it  not  almost  owe 
its  existence  to  him  ?     And  he  was  giving  it  all  to  God  ami  to   1'" ranee. 

Donnacona  told  the  strangers  of  a  far  greater  town  than  his,  many  days'  journey 
up  the  river.  So  Cartier  placed  his  two  largest  vessels  within  the  mouth  of  the  Ste. 
Croix,  or  the  .St.  Charles,  as  the  Recollets  called  it  in  the  next  century,  and  pursued  his 
way,  overcoming  the  obstacles  of  St.  Peter's  Lake,  to  Hochelaga.  The  natives  there 
received  him  as  if  he  were  a  god,  bringing  fish  and  corn-cakes,  and  throwing  them  into 
the  boats  in  such  profusion  that  they  seemed  to  fall  through  the  air  like  rain  or  snow. 
Cartier  could  not  help  falling  in  love  with  the  country.  The  palisaded  town  nestling  under 
the  shadow  of  Mount  Royal  was  surrounded  by  fertile  fields.  Autumn  showered  its 
crimson  and  gold  on  the  forests,  turning  the  mountain  into  an  immense  picture  suspended 
high  in  air,  glowing  with  a  wealth  of  colour  that  no  European  painter  would  dart- 
to  |)ut  on  canvas.  The  river  swept  on,  ;  .'o  miles  wide,  with  a  contjuering  force  that 
indicated  vast  distances  be}ond,  new  realms  waiting  to  be  discovered.  All  the  way  back 
to  Quebec  the  mar\ellous  tints  of  the  forest,  and  the  sweet  air  and  rich  sunsets  of  a 
Canadian  autumn  accompanied  the  happy  PVenchmen.  Mad  they  now  turned  thtnr  prows 
homeward,  what  pictures  of  the  neu'  country  would  they  have  held  up  to  wondering 
listeners  !  Nothing  could  have  prevented  I'Vance  from  precipitating  itself  at  once  upon 
Canada.  But  the  natives,  accustomed  to  the  winters,  uttered  no  note  of  warning  to  the 
strangers,  and  therefore,  although  Cartier  rejoined  his  comrades  at  Quebec  on  the  iith 
of  October,  he  delayed  till  the  ice-king  issued  his  "  z/^-  exeat."  Then  he  and  they  soon 
learned  that  the  golden  shield  had  another  side. 

To  Canadians,  ^vlnter  is  simply  one  of  the  four  seasons.  The  summer  and  autumn 
suns  ripen  all  the  crops  that  grow  in  England  or  the  north  of  Erance,  and.  in  no  tem- 
perate climate  is  more  than  one  crop  a  year  expected.  The  frost  and  snow  of  winter  are 
hailed  in  their  turn,  not  only  as  useful  friends  but  as  ministers  to  almost  all  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  year — the  sleighing,  skating,  snow-shoeing,  ice-boating,  tol)ogganning — tiiat 
both  sexes  and  all  classes  delight  in.  The  frost  does  much  of  our  subsoil  ploughing. 
Snow  is  not  only  the  best  possible  mulch,  shading  and  protecting  the  soil  at  no  cost,  but 
its  manurial  \alue  gi\es  it  the  nanu!  of  "  the  poor  man's  manure."  The  ice  bridges  our 
lakes  and  rivers.  A  good  snow-fall  means  roads  without  tiu-'  trouble  of  road-n.aking, 
not  only  to  kirk  and  market,  but  through  thick  woods,  over  cradle-hills,  and  awa\'  into 
the  lumber  regions.  An  insufficient  supply  of  snow  and  ice  is  a  national  calamit)'  ;  and 
excess  can  never  l)e  so  bad  as  the  pall  that  covers  England  and  Scotland  half  the  \(w: 
and   makes  the  people  "take   their  pleasures  sadly." 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AXD   PESCRIPTH'E 


:>/ 


But,  we  are  prepared  for  winter.  Jacques  Cartier  was  not,  and  very  heavily  its  hand 
fell  upon  him,  as  it  did  subsequently  on  Champlain  when  he  first  wintered  at  Quebec. 
How  heavily,  we  are  in  a  position  to  estimate  from  readinjj  the  harrowinj^  descriptions 
of  the  sufferings  endured  by  the  people  of  London  in  January  1881,  in  consequence  of 
a  snow-fall  of  some  twelve  inches.  One  periodical  describes  the  scene  under  the  title  of 
"  Moscow  in  London,"  and  soberly  asserts  that  "  to  have  lived  in  London  on  Tuesday, 
the  i8th  January,  1881,  and  to  have  survived  the  experience,  is  something  which  any  man 
is  justified  in  remembering,  and  which  ought  to  justify  occasional  boasting  of  the  fact." 
Another  declares  that  a  few  more  such  snow-storms  would  "  render  our  life  and  civilization 
impossible;"  that  in  such  a  case  there  could  be  only  "an  Esquimaux  life,  not  an  English 
life;"  that  "a  transformation  of  the  rain  into  these  soft  white  crystals  which  at  first  sight 
seem  so  much  less  aggressive  than  rain  is  all  that  is  needed  to  destroy  the  whole  struc- 
ture of  our  communications,  whether  in  the  way  of  railway,  telegraph,  or  literature;" 
and  sadly  moralises  over  the  fact  that  this  is  sure  to  come  about  in  time  from  the  pre- 
cession of  the  equinoxes.  Bathos  such  as  this  indicates  fairly  enough  the  wonderful 
ignorance  of  the  facts  and  conditions  of  Canadian  life  that  reigns  supreme  in  educated 
English  circles.  Canadians  fancy  that  their  civilization  is  English.  Those  of  us  who  are 
practically  acquainted  with  the  conditions  of  life  in  England  are  pretty  well  agreed  that 
where  there  are  points  of  difference  the  advantage  is  on  our  side.  Not  one  man  in  a 
thousand  in  Canada  wears  a  fur  coat,  or  an  overcoat  of  any  kind  heavier  than  he  would 
have  to  wear  in  the  mother  country.  We  have  ice-houses,  but  do  not  live  in  them.  .Societ)' 
shows  no  signs  of  approximating  to  the  Esquimaux  type.  We  skim  over  the  snow  more 
rapidly  than  a  four-in-hand  can  travel!  in  England  when  the  best  highway  is  at  its  best. 
A  simple  contrivance  called  a  snow-plough  clears  the  railway  track  for  the  trains,  tossing 
the  snow  to  the  right  and  left  as  triumphantly  as  a  ship  tosses  the  spray  from  its  bows. 
We  telegraph  and  telephone,  use  cabs  and  busses,  and  get  our  mails — from  Halifax  to 
Sarnia — with  "proofs"  and  parcels  about  as  regularly  in  winter  as  in  summer.  Incredible 
as  all  this  must  sound  to  those  who  have  shivered  under  the  power  of  one  snow-storm 
and  a  few  degrees  of  frost,  there  is  a  certain  humiliation  to  a  Canadian  in  dcscibing 
what  is  so  entirely  a  matter  of  course.  He  is  kept  from  overmuch  wonder  by  remembering 
that  the  people  of  Western  Canada,  in  spite  of  i)ractical  acquaintance  with  snow-ploughs, 
o[jposed  for  years  the  construction  of  the  Intercolonial  Railway  because  they  strenuously 
maintained  that  it  would  be  blocked  up  all  the  winter  with   ice  and  snow. 

We  are  accustomed  to  our  environment.  Cartier's  men  were  not ;  and  reference  has 
been  made  to  recent  experiences  in  England  to  help  us  to  understand  what  horrors  those 
|K)or  fellows  from  sunny  France  endured  throughout  an  apparently  endless  winter,  cooped 
lip  in  the  coldest  spot  in  all  Canada.  "  From  the  middle  of  November  to  the  i8th  of  April 
the  ice  and  snow  shut  us  in,"  says  their  captain.  Ice  increased  upon  ice.  Snow  fell 
upon  snow.     The  great  river  that  no  power  known  to  man  could  fetter,  was  bound  fast. 


58 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


Everything  froze.  The  breath  that  came  from  their  mouths,  the  very  blood  in  their 
veins,  seemed  to  freeze.  Night  and  day  their  limbs  were  benumbed.  Thick  ice  formed 
on  the  sides  of  their  ships,  on  decks,  masts,  cordage,  on  everything  to  which  moisture 
attached  itself.  Snow  wreathed  and  curled  in  at  every  crevice.  Every  tree  had  its  load. 
A  walk  in  the  woods  was  an  impossibility,  and  there  was  nowhere  else  to  walk.  Confined 
within  their  narrow  domain,  and  living  on    salted    food,  scurvy  seized  upon    the   helpless 


TKIUMI'H    OK    TUK    SNOW-l'I.OUdH. 


prisoners.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  Cartier  had  recourse  to  heaven,  receiving,  however, 
the  same  minimum  of  practical  answer  that  was  given  by  Hercules  to  /Esop's  waggoner. 
A  modern  writer  of  scrupulous  accuracy  describes  naively  the  appeal  and  its  bootlessness : 
"  When  eight  were  dead  and  more  than  fifty  in  a  helpless  state,  Cartier  ordered  a  solemn 
religious  act  which  was,  as  it  were,  the  first  public  e.xercise  of  the  Catholic  religion  in  Can- 
ada, and  the  origin  of  those  processions  and  pilgrimages  which  have  since  been  made  in 
honour  of  Mary,  to  claim  her  intercession  with  God  in  great  calamities.  Seeing  that  the 
disease  had  made  such  frightful  ravages  he  set  his  crew  to  prayer,  and  made  them  carry 
an  image  or  statue  of  the  Virgin  Mary  over  the  snow  and  ice,  and  caused  it  to  be  placed 
against  a  tree  about  an  arrow's  (light  away  from  the  fort.  He  also  commanded  that  on 
the  following  Sunday  mass  should  b(;  sung  in  that  ])lace  and  before  that  image,  and  that 
all  those  who  were  able  to  walk,  whether  w(;ll  or  ill,  should  go  in  the  procession — 
'singing  the  seven  penitential  Psalms  of  Uavid,  with  the  Litany,  praying  the  \'irgin  to 
entreat    her    dear    Son    to    have    pity    upon    us.'"     On    that    day  mass    was    celebrated 


QURHRC:    HISTORICAL   AND  DRSCRIPTIVE  59 

before  the  image  of  Mary,  even  chanted,  Cartier  tells  us;  apparently  the  first  occasion 
of  a  high  mass  in  Canada.  At  the  same  time  Cartier  gave  another  special  proof  of  his 
vivid  and  tender  trust  in  Mary — promising  to  make  a  pilgrimage  in  her  honour  to  Roque- 
madour,  should  he  be  spared  to  return  to  France.  "  Nevertheless,  that  very  day,  Philip 
Rougemont,  a  native  of  Amboise,  twenty  years  old,  died ;  and  the  disease  became  so 
general  that  of  all  who  were  in  the  three  ships  there  were  not  three  untouched,  and  in 
one  of  the  ships  there  was  not  one  man  who  could  go  into  the  hold  to  draw  water  for 
himself  or  the  others."  Despair  fell  upon  the  poor  wretches.  They  gave  up  hope  of 
ever  seeing  France  again.  Cartier  alone  did  not  despair,  and  the  dawn  followed  the 
darkest  hour.  One  of  the  Indians  told  him  of  "the  most  exquisite  remedy  that  ever 
was,"  a  decoction  composed  of  the  leaves  and  bark  of  the  white  spruce.  He  administered 
the  medicine  without  stint,  and  in  eight  days  the  sick  were  restored  to  health.  And  now 
the  long  cruel  winter  wore  away.  The  icy  fetters  relaxed  their  grip  of  land  and  river. 
Tnder  warm  April  suns  the  sap  rose,  thrilling  the  dead  trees  into  life.  Amid  the  melting 
snow,  green  grasses  and  dainty  star-like  flowers  sprang  up  as  freely  as  in  a  hot-house. 
Cartier  prepared  to  depart,  first  taking  possession  of  Canada,  however,  by  planting  in 
th(;  fort  "a  beautiful  cross"  thirty-five  feet  high,  with  the  arms  of  France  embossed  on 
the  cross-piece,  and  this  inscription,  "  FriDuiscus  Primus,  Dei  gratia,  Francormii  rex, 
regnat."  Then,  treacherously  luring  Donnacona  on  board  ship,  that  he  might  present  the 
Ring  of  Stadacona  to  the  King  of  France,  he  set  sail  for  .St.  Malo.  Nothing  came  of 
this,  the  second  voyage  of  Cartier,  and  little  wonder.  What  advantages  did  Canada 
offer  to  induce  men  to  leave  home  !  What  tales  could  the  travellers  tell  save  of  black 
forests,  deep  snow,  thick  ice,  starving  Indians,  and  all-devouring  scurvy!  But  Cartier 
was  not  discouraged,  and  six  years  afterwards  Francis  resolved  to  try  again.  Roberval 
was  commissioned  to  found  a  permanent  settlement.  He  sent  Cartier  ahead  and  Cartier 
tried  at  Cap  Rouge,  above  Quebec,  the  Indians  of  .Stadacona  naturally  enough  not  making 
him  welcome.  But  the  experiment  diil  not  succeed.  The  time  had  not  come.  Nearly  a 
century  was  to  pass  away  before  the  true  father  of  New  France — the  founder  of  Quebec — 
would  appear. 

On  the  3d  of  July,  1608,  Samuel  de  Champlain  planted  the  white  flag  of  France 
on  the  site  of  Quebec.  The  old  village  of  Stadacona  had  disappeared,  and  there  was  no 
one  to  dispute  possession  with  the  new  comers.  With  characteristic  promptitude  Cham- 
plain  set  his  men  to  work  to  cut  down  trees  and  saw  them  into  lumber  for  building,  to 
ilig  drains  and  ditches,  to  pull  up  the  wild  grape-vines  which  abounded,  to  prepare  the 
iMound  for  garden  seeds,  or  to  attend  to  the  commissariat.  Fvery  one  had  his  work  to 
lio.  The  winter  tried  him  as  it  had  tried  Cartier.  The  dreaded  scurvy  attacked  his 
lollowers.  Out  of  twenty-eight  only  eight  survived,  and  tlu;se  were  disfigured  with  its 
fell  marks.  The  next  year  he  decideil  to  ally  himself  with  the  Algonquins  and  Hurons 
against  the  b'ive  Nations.     It  may  have  been  impossible  for  him  to  have  remained  neu- 


6o 


FREXCH  CANADIAX   LIFF.    AM)    CIIARACTFR 


tral,  though  the  example  of  tlie  Dutch  at  Albany  indicates  that  it  was  possible.  Certainly 
the  step  plunged  the  infant  colony  into  a  sea  of  troubles  for  a  centur}'.  It  took  the 
sword  and  was  again  and  again   on   the  point  of  perishing  b\'  the  tomahawk. 

This  man  Champlain,  soldier,  sailor,  engineer,  geographer,  naturalist,  statesman,  with 
the  heart  ami  soul  of  a  hero,  was  the  founder  of  New  I'Vance.  He  had  gained  distinc- 
tion  in   the  wars  of  the   League;    in  the  West   Indies    he    first  proposed    that    ship    canal 

across  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  which  another 
Frenchman — as  unconquerable  as  he — was 
later  on  destined  to  commence;  and  sub- 
sequentl)'  he  had  spent  years  exploring  and 
attempting  settlements  around  the  ruggeil 
Atlantic  shores  of  Acadie  and  New  England. 
From  the  day  that  he  planted  the  lilies  of 
France  at  the  foot  of  Cape  Diamond  to 
the  day  of  his  death,  on  Christmas,  1635, 
he  devoted  himself  to  the  infant  colony, 
livetl  for  it  and  kept  it  alive,  in  spite  of 
enemi(;s  at  home  and  abroad,  and  dis- 
couragenuMits  enough  to  have  shaken  any 
resolve  but  that  of  courage  founded  upon 
faith.  Right  under  the  beetling  cliff,  be- 
tween the  ]:)resent  Champlain  Market  and 
the  (piainl  old  church  oi  Notre  Dame  des 
Victoires,  Champlain  determined  to  build 
his  city.  His  first  work  was  to  prepare 
the  ground  for  garden  seeds,  and  wlieal 
and  rye.  He  saw  from  the  first,  what  \\v 
ne\er  could  get  an\-  one  else  in  authoritx 
to  see,  that  the  existence  of  the  colon)',  as 
anything  more  than  a  teniporar\  fin--tratlin>; 
post,  ilepemletl  on  its  being  able  to  raise-  its 
own  food.  The  Company  with  which  In 
was  associated  could  not  see  this,  because  they  had  gone  into  the  enterprise  with  \er\ 
different  motiv(;s  from  those  that  animated  Champlain.  When  we  ha\e  no  desire  to  see. 
we  |)ut  the  telesco|)e  to  our  blintl  e\e  antl  declare  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen. 
I'^ver)'  cieature  acts  accortling  to  its  instincts,  and  to  the  rule  fur-trailing  companies  an 
no  exception.  Cive  them  a  monop'.)iy  and  instinct  becomes  consecratetl  by  laws 
human  and  Divine.  The  welfare  of  the  Compan\-  becomes  the  supreme  law.  At  tin 
beginning  of    this    centur\    the    North-West  Company  thought    it    right    to    stamp  out    ii. 


CHAMri.AIN. 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AXP  DESCR/PT/rE 


6i 


NOTkK     liAMI      DI.S    \1(    lOIKl.S. 
Siu-  111'  i_)iij;iiial  (.iiv. 


\ 


blootl  aiul   [wv  th(t   patriotic  efforts   to   colonize 
Assiniboia   iiKule  In'   a   Scottish    iioMcman,  who 
_    ^     '        ^  ''  lixi'd  half    a  ccntur\-    before'    his    time.      Subse- 

(luently  the  two  hundred  ami  sixtx-eii^ht  share- 
holders of  the    Hudson's    I)a\-    Conipan)-    felt    justit'ied   in    keepiiii^-    half    a    continent    as  a 
preserve  for    Jjuffalo  and    beaxer.       How  could   better  things    be    expected    in    the    se\en- 
ti-enth  century  from    the    monopolies  of   I  )e   Chastes  or   1  )e    Monts,    the   merchants  of  St. 
^bdo,    Rouen,    Dieppe,  La    Rochelle  ;    or    even    from   the    Compan\-   of    the   One    Huntlred 
\ssociates    organized   b}-    Richelieu  ?     TradiiiL;-    interests  were  supreme     with   one    and    all. 
I  hose  who  cl.imoureil  for  free   tratle  clamoured   only  for  a   share  of  the  nionopoh.      Thi- 
nipirt;  is  perpetually  at  war,  and    the    soldier  j^ets    the   blame,     perhaps    the    aristocracy, 
Iiould    Mr.    Bright    be    the    speaker;    but    the    real    culprit    is    the   trader.       Our   jealousy 
'    Russia  and  our    little  wars    all    the    world    over    ha\e    trade    interests    as    their    source 


62  FREXCir  CANADIAh'  LIFE  AND   a/ARACTER 

and  inspiration.  In  the  seventeenth  century,  Canadian  trade  meant  supplies  to  the 
Indians  in  exchange  for  pehries,  and  money  spent  on  anything  else  seemed  to  the 
One   Hundred  Associates  and  their  servants  money  thrown  away. 

Not  so  thought  Champlain.  I'"ortunately,  he  was  too  indispensable  a  man  to 
be  recalled,  though  it  was  legitimate  to  oppose,  to  check,  to  thwart  his  projects 
whenever  they  did  not  promise  direct  returns  to  the  Comjjany.  Chamijlain  aimed 
at  founding  an  empire,  and  every  great  empire  must  be  based  on  farming.  Therefore 
when,  in  1617,  he  brought  the  erstwhile  apothecary,  Louis  Hebert,  to  Quebec,  he 
did  more  for  the  colony  than  when  he  brought  the  Recollets  and  Jesuits  to  it. 
And  let  this  be  said  with  no  depreciation  of  the  labours  of  the  gray  robes  and  black 
robes.  Hebert  was  the  first  who  gave  himself  up  to  the  task  of  cultivating  the 
soil  in  New  France,  and  the  first  head  of  a  family  resident  in  the  country  who  lived 
on  what  he  cultivated.  His  son-in-law  Couillard  walked  in  the  same  good  path,  the 
path  first  trodden  by  "the  grand  old  gardener  and  his  wife."  No  matter  how  soldiers, 
sailors,  fur-traders  and  priests  might  come  and  go,  the  farmer's  children  held  on  to 
the  land,  and  their  descendants  hold  it  still.  They  increased  and  multiplied  so  mightily 
that  there  are  few  French  families  of  any  anti(juity  in  Canada  who  cannot  trace 
their  genealogy  by  some  link  back  to  that  of  Louis  Hebert.  Hebert  and  Couillard 
.Streets,  streets  quainter  and  more  expressive  of  the  seventeenth  century  than  any  to  be 
seen  now  in  St.  Malo,  commemorate  their  names.  One  of  their  descendants  informed 
the  writer  that  those  streets  run  where  the  first  furrows  were  ploughed  in  Canada,  prob- 
ably in  the  same  way  that  some  of  tlu'  streets  in  Boston  are  said  to  meander  along  the 
paths  made  by  the  cows  of  the  first  inhabitants.  Had  others  followed  Hebert's  example 
the  colony  would  not  havt;  been  so  long  suspended  bt'tween  life  and  d(!ath,  and  Cham- 
plain  coukl  have  held  out  against  the  Huguenot  Kerkts  in  1629.  But  the;  Company,  far 
from  doing  anything  to  encourage  the  few  tillers  of  the  ground,  did  ever)thing  to  dis- 
courage them.  All  grain  raised  had  to  be  sold  at  a  price  fixed  by  the  Company,  and 
the  Company  alone  had  the  power  of  buying.  Of  course  th(;  Heberts  and  Couillards 
ought  to  ha\e  been  grateful  that  there  was  a  Company  to  buy,  for  what  could  farmers 
do  without  a  market  ? 

Of  Champlain's  labours  it  is  unnecessary  to  speak  at  length.  Twenty  times  he  crossed 
tht;  Atlantic  to  fight  for  his  colony,  though  it  was  a  greater  undertaking  to  cross  the 
Atlantic  then  than  to  go  round  the  world  now.  He  may  be  called  the  founder  of  Mon- 
treal as  well  as  of  Quebec.  I'irst  of  luiropeans  he  sailed  up  the  Richelieu,  giving  to  the 
beautifid  river  the  name  of  the  Companj's  great  patron.  He  discovered  Lake  Cham 
plain.  He  first  ascendetl  the  Ottavva,  crossed  to  Lake  Xi(Mssing,  and  came  down  by  \.\\v 
valley  of  tlu;  Trent  to  what  he  calleil  "the  fresh  wat(;r  sea"  of  Ontario.  He  secureil 
the  alliance  of  all  the  Indian  tribes — the  confederac)'  of  the  V'wv  Nations  (;xcept»,'d --b\ 
treaties  which   lasted  as  long  as  the  white  flag  floated  over  the  castle  of    .St.    Louis,  and 


QUEBliC:    inSTORICAL   AND   DESCRlPm'E 


63 


which  laid  tho  founthitinn  of  the  friendship  that  has  existed  between  every  Canadian 
L;()\(rniiiciU  and  the  old  sons  and  lords  of  tlu;  soil.  D'Arcy  McCice,  in  one  of  those 
addresses  that  made  learned  and  iiidearned  feel  what  is  the  potency  and  oinnipotenc) 
of  man's  word  on  tlu;  souls  of  men,  thus  sketched  his  moral  (jualilies  and  ama/inj; 
Ncrsalilit}' :  -  "  lie  was  hraxe  almost 
lo  rashness.  lie  would  cast  himself 
with  a  single  European  follower  in 
the  midst  of  savage  enemies,  and 
more  than  once  his  life  was  endan- 
t;cred  b\'  th(;  excess  (jf  his  coiitidence 
and  his  couraL;'(^  lie  was  eminently 
social  m  Ins  liahits-  witness  his  or- 
der of  /(■  boil  toiips.  in  which  t;ver\- 
man  of  his  associates  was  for  one 
day  host  to  all  his  comrades.  lie 
was  sanguine,  as  liecame  an  adxcn- 
turer  ;    and  self-denying',  as  became  a 


MOLMAIN  im.i.. 

I'loiii  t(i|i  of  Hii;il.-T  ( (  I    St.iii-. 


hero.  .  .  Ill'  touched  the 
extremes  ot  human  ex|)eri- 
ence  amoiii,;  ilixcrse  characters  and  nations. 
,\t  one  time  he  skt'lched  plans  of  ci\ili/ed 
a_L;<;randi/emeiu  for  Henry  1\'.  and  Richelieu; 
at  another,  he  planned  schemes  of  wild  war- 
f;ire  with  Huron  chiefs  antl  .Mi^oiupiin  bra\cs. 
He  united  in  a  most  rare  decree  the  faculties 
of  action  anil  retlection,  and  like  all  hij^hly- 
retleclixc  minds,  his  thoughts,  Ioul;'  cherished 
in  secn.'t,  ran  ofti-n  into  the  mould  of  max- 
ims, somi'  of  which  wouKl  form  the  fittest 
possibU;  inscriptions  to  bt;  engraven  ui)on 
his    monument.       When     the     merchants     ot 


64 


FRENCH  CAN.AD/AN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


Quebec  grumbled  at  the  cost  of  fortifying  that  place,  he  said,  '  It  is  best  not  to  obey 
the  passions  of  men  ;  they  are  but  for  a  season  ;  it  is  our  duty  to  regard  the  future.' 
With  all  his  love  of  good-fellowship,  he  was,  what  seems  to  some  inconsistent  with  it,  sin- 
cerely and  enthusiastically  religious.  Among  his  maxims  are  these  two — that  'the  salvation 
of  one  soul  is  of  more  value  than  the  conquest  of  an  empire;'  and  that  'kings  ought 
not  to  think  of  extending  their  authority  over  idolatrous  nations,  except  for  the  purpose  of 
subjecting  thtm  to  Jesus  Christ.'"  The  one  mistake  made  by  Champlain  has  already  been 
referred  to.  He  attacked  the  Irocjuois,  whereas  he  should  have  conciliated  them  at  any 
cost  or  remained  neutral  in  all  Indian  wars.  His  mistake  was  not  so  much  intellectual 
as  moral.  It  was  a  crime  and — paic  Talleyrand — worse  than  a  blunder.  But  it  is  not 
pleasant  to  refer  to  the  errors  of  such  a  man.  Well  may  Quebec  commemorate  his  name 
and  virtues.  Let  us  not  forget,  when  we  walk  along  the  quaint,  narrow,  crowded  street 
that  still  bears  his  name,  or  clamber  "Break-neck  Stairs"  from   Little    Champlain   Street 

to  reach  Durham  Terrace,  where  he  built  the 
Chateau  of  St.  Louis  and  doubtless  often  gazed, 
with  hope  and  pride  in  his  eyes,  on  a  scene 
like  to  which  there  are  few  on  this  earth,  how 
much  Canada  owes  to  him !  Well  for  those 
who  follow  him  where  all  may  follow — in  un- 
selfishness of  purpose,  in  unflinching  valour,  and 
in  continence  of  life.  No  monument  points  out 
his  last  resting-place,  for,  strange  to  .say,  "  of  all 
French  governors  interred  within  the  enceinte, 
he  is  the  only  one  of  whose  place  of  sepulture 
we  are  ignorant."*  The  registers  of  Quebec 
were  destroyed  in  the  great  conflagration  of 
1640.  Thus  it  happens  that  we  have  not  the 
account  of  his  burial.  M.  Dionne  shows  that  in 
all  probability  the  remains  were  first  deposited 
in  the  chapel  of  Notre  Dame  de  la  Recouvrance ;  then  in  a  vault  of  masonry  in  the 
chapel  built  by  his  successor  in  the  Governorship,  whence  they  were  removed  by  the 
authorities  to  the  Basilica.  Champlain  needs  no  monument,  least  of  all  in  Quebec. 
The  city  is  his  monument. 

Most  religious  Quebec  was  from  the  first  under  the  influence  of  Champlain  ;  most 
religious  is  it  in  appearance  to  this  day.  There  are  churches  enough  for  a  city  with  five 
times  the  present  population.  EcLlcsiastical  establishments  of  one  kind  or  another  occupy 
the  lion's  share  of  the  space  within  the  walls.  At  every  corner  the  soutaned  ecclesiastic 
meets  you,   moving  along  quietly,  with  the  confidence  of  one  who  knows  that  his  foot  is 

*  "Etudes   Historiques,"  par  M.   DiONNE. 


PRESCOTT    GATE. 

Now  removed,  guarded   the   approach  lo  the  Upper  Town  by 
.Mountain    Hill. 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTH'E  65 

(111  his  native  heath.  It  was  the  same  with  the  cities  of  France  in  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury :  but  it  is  not  so  now.  Things  have  changed  there.  The  Revolution  made  the  Old 
World  New.  In  Quebec  the  New  World  clings  to  the  garments  of  the  Old.  Champlain 
first  induced  the  Recollet  friars  to  come  to  his  aid.  The  Jesuits,  then  at  \\\v  height  of 
their  power  in  France,  followed.  The  Company  disliked  missionaries  almost  as  much  as 
it  disliked  farmers.  "They  tolerated  the  poor  Recollets,"  says  Ferland,  "but  they  dreaded 
the  coming  of  the  Jesuits,  who  had  powerful  protectors  at  Court  and  who  could  through 
them  carry  their  complaints  to  the  foot  of  the  throne."  Consequently,  when  the  first 
(Iftachment  of  Jesuits  arrived  they  found  every  door  shut  against  them,  and  if  the  Re- 
collets  had  not  ofTered  them  hospitality  they  would  have  been  obliged  to  return  to 
France. 

Magnificent  missionaries  those  first  Jesuits  were  ;  more  devoted  men  never  lived.  The 
names  especially  of  Charles  Lallemant  and  Jean  de  Brebeuf  are  still  sacred  to  thousands 
of  French-Canadian  Roman  Catholics.  Two  things  the  Jesuits  felt  the  colony  must  have 
— a  school  for  the  instruction  of  girls,  and  a  hospital  for  the  sick.  These  institutions 
they  desired  for  the  sake  of  the  colonists,  most  of  whom  were  poor,  but  still  more  for 
the  sake  of  the  Indians.  The  Fathers  had  left  France  to  convert  the  Indians;  on  that 
work  their  hearts  were  set,  and  they  gave  themselves  to  it  with  a  wisdom  as  great  as 
their  self-sacrifice.  Protestant  missionaries,  as  a  class,  are  only  now  learning  to  imitate 
their  methods  of  procedure,  especially  with  regard  to  the  establishment  of  hospitals  and 
the  acquisition  of  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  language  and  modes  of  thought  of  the 
people  whose  conversion  they  seek.  What  Livingstone  did  in  South  Africa  when  he  cut 
himself  loose  from  all  the  other  missionaries  who  kept  within  reach  of  the  comforts  of 
the  colony,  and  plunged  into  the  thick  of  the  native  tribes  beyond  ;  what  the  Canadian 
missionary  Mackay  did  eight  years  ago  in  F"ormosa  with  such  brilliant  success,  the  Jesuits 
always  did.  Their  first  task  was  to  master  the  language.  Grammatical  knowledge, 
they  knew,  was  not  enough.  They  lived  in  the  wigwams  of  the  wretched,  filthy  no- 
mads, travelled  with  them,  carrying  the  heaviest  loads,  and  submitted  to  cold  and  heat, 
to  privations,  and  the  thousand  abominations  of  savage  life,  without  a  murmur.  They 
cared  for  the  sick,  and,  expecting  little  aid  from  the  old,  sought  to  educate  the  young. 
Charlevoix  tells  us  how  they  succeeded  in  establishing  in  Quebec  both  the  Hotel  Dieu  and 
the  Ursuline  Convent.  Madame  la  Duchesse  D'Aiguillon,  the  niece  of  Richelieu,  undertook 
to  found  the  first.  To  carry  out  her  pious  project  she  applied  to  the  hospital  nuns  of  Dieppe. 
I  hese  hoh'  women  accepted  with  joy  the  opportunity  of  sacrificing  all  that  they  counted 
dear  in  the  world  for  the  service  of  the  sick  poor  of  Canada;  all  offered  themselves, 
all  asked  with  tears  to  be  admitted  to  share  in  the  work."  About  the  same  time  Madame 
dc  la  Peltrie,  a  widow  of  a  good  family,  resolved  to  found  the  Convent  of  the  Ursu- 
lines.  She  devoted  all  her  fortune  to  give  a  Christian  education  to  the  girls  of  the 
colonists  and  of  the   Indians,  and  followed  up  these  sacrifices  by  devoting  herself  to  the 


66 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


r 

■cj^^l 

^^                        •      ' 

■  -  Mk   1 

% 

li^        L 

IN   THE   GARDENS   OK   THK    UkSULINE   CONVENT. 


work.  Young,  rich,  beauti- 
ful, she  renounced  all  ad- 
vantages and  prospects  for 
what  then  must  have  lieen 
a  worse  than  Siberian  exile. 
At  Fours,  among  the  Ursu- 
line  nuns,  she  found  Marie 
de  rincarnation,  who  be- 
came the  first  Mother  .Su- 
perior of  the  new  convent, 
and  "  Marie  de  St.  Joseph, 
whom  New  I'Vance  regards 
as  one  of  its  tutelar)- 
angels."  On  the  fourth  of 
May,  1639,  she  embarked 
with  three  hospital  nuns, 
three  l^rsulines,  and  Pere 
V^imond,  and  on  the  first 
of  July  they  arrived  at 
Quebec.  The  length  of  the 
voyage,  not  to  refer  to  its 
discomforts,  reminds  us  of 
the  difference  between  cross- 
ing the  Atlantic  then  and 
now.  All  Quebec  rejoiced 
on  their  arrival.  Work 
ceased,  the  shops  were  shut, 
and  the  town  was  en  /tic. 
"  The  Governor  received 
the  heroines  on  the  river's 
bank  at  the  head  of  his 
troops  with  a  discharge  ol 
cannon,  and  after  the  first 
com])liments  he  led  them, 
amid  the  acclamations  of 
the  people,  to  church,  where 
Te  Deums  were  chanted 
as  a  thanksgiving."  From 
that     day    till     her    death, 


QUEIUiC:    IflSTORfCAL   AM)   PRSCRirTll'F.  67 

thirty-two  years  after,  Madame  cle  la  I'eltrie  gave  herself  up  to  the  work  she  had 
uiulertakeii.  Mere  Marie  de  I'lncarnation,  whose  fervent  piet)-  and  spirituality  of 
cliaracter  jrained  her  the  name  of  the;  Stc  rher(;sa  of  New  I*" ranee,  died  a  year  after  her. 
These  two  women  lived  in  an  atmosphere  so  different  from  ours,  that  it  is  extremely 
(litticult  for  us  to  judj^^e  them.  Both  have  been  condenin('d,  the  owe.  as  an  unnatural 
mother,  the  other  as  a  disobedient  dau_t,diter.  They  believed  they  were  sacrificinjr  the 
claims  of  nature  to  the  superior  claim  of  their  Saviour.  Certainly,  their  works  have 
followed  them.  The  j^^reat  Ursuline  Convent  of  Quebec,  to  which  hundreds  of  girls  are 
sent  to  be  educated  from  all  parts  of  the  continent,  is  their  monument.  The  buildings 
have  been  repeatedly  destroyed  by  lire,  but  have  always  been  replaced  by  others  more 
expensive  and  substantial,  the  community  apparently  delighting  to  testify  its  sense  of  the 
value  of  the  work  done  by  the  devoted  Sisters.  Within  their  spacious  grounds,  in  the 
heart  of  the  city,  are  various  buildings,  one  for  boarders,  among  whom  to  this  day  are 
daughters  of  Indian  chiefs;  another  for  day  scholars;  a  normal  school;  a  school  for  the 
poor;  a  chapel  and  choir,  and  nuns'  cpiarters ;  with  gardens,  j)la)'  and  pleasure  grounds 
for  the  youthful  inmates,  and  summer  and  winter  promenades — all  elocpient  with  the 
memories  of  the  pious  founder,  who  had  not  disdained  to  toil  in  the  garden  with  her 
own  hand.  To  each  generation  of  susceptible  minds  the  lives  of  Mme  de  la  Peltrie  and 
Mere  Marie  are  held  up  for  imitation,  and  no  honour  is  grudged  to  their  memories. 

Not  only  religious,  but  charitable  and  moral,  was  Quebec  under  the  administration 
of  Champlain  and  his  successors.  Ferland  cites  the  registers  of  Notre  Dame  of  Quebec 
to  show  that  out  of  664  children  baptised  between  1621  and  1661,  only  one  was  illegiti- 
mate. Still,  the  colony  did  not  prosper ;  again  and  again  it  was  on  the  point  of  extinc- 
tion at  the  hands  of  the  Iroquois.  The  Company  sat  upon  its  agricultural  and  indus- 
trial development  like  the  old  man  of  the  sea.  In  1663  the  population  of  New  TVance 
consisted  of  only  two  thousand  souls,  scattered  along  a  thin  broken  line  from  Tadoussac 
to  Montreal.  Of  this  small  total  Quebec  claimed  800.  At  any  moment  a  rude  breath 
would  have  killed  the  colony,  but  now  favouring  gales  came  from  Old  France.  Louis 
Xl\'.  determined  to  suppress  the  Company,  and  bring  Canada  under  his  own  direct 
authority.  He  constituted  by  direct  appointment  a  Sovereign  Council  to  sit  in  Quebec, 
immediately  responsible  to  himself,  the  principal  functionaries  to  be  the  Governor-Gene- 
ral, the  Royal  Intendant,  and  the  Bishop,  each  to  be  a  spy  on  the  other  two.  The 
Governor-General  believed  himself  to  be  the  head  of  the  colony  ;  he  formed  the  apex 
of  the  governmental  pyramid.  But  the  Intendant,  who  was  Chief  of  Justice,  Police, 
Finance,  and  Marine,  understood  that  the  King  looked  to  him,  and  that  the  colony  was 
in  his  hands,  to  be  made  or  marred.  The  Bishop,  again,  knew  that  both  Governor- 
General  and  Intendant  would  have  to  dance  according  as  he  pulled  the  wires  at  Court. 
Talon,  the  first  Intendant  who  arrived  in  Quebec,  was  the  ablest  who  ever  held  the 
position.     Talon  was  a  statesman,  a  pupil  of  Colbert,  and  in  some    respects   in    advance 


68  rR/:.\X//  CANAD/IX  f./F/i    .l.\7>   CILIRACTER 

of  his  j^rrcat  master.  lie  iirj^cd  iininijrration  as  a  means  o{  eiisurinj^f  to  I'rance  the  pos- 
session of  the  New  World.  Colhert,  with  the  wisdom  of  the  sevt-nte'cnth  rentiiry,  ri-plii'il 
that  it  would  not  he  priiilent  to  depopulate  the  kinj^rdom.  "  .Secure  New  Ndrk."  Talon 
urj^ed.  "and  the  ij^reat  i^ame  will  he  j^ained  for  I'ranee."  When  that  step  was  not  taken 
he  projected  a  road  to  .\eadie,— which  it  was  left  to  our  dax,  1)\'  the  construction  of  tin 
Interc  lonial  Railway,  to  carry  out,  and  thus  to  !j[i\<'  to  Canada  indispensable  winter 
ports,  lie  pusheil  discover)'  in  every  direction,  selectinij  liis  men  with  mar\cllous  saj^acit). 
L  nder  his  direction,  St.  Simon  and  La  Coutun-  reached  llutlson's  Hay  1)\'  the  valley  ol 
the  .Sa<.juenay ;  I'ere  Druilletes,  the  Atlantic  seaboard  l)\  the  Chaudiere  and  the  Ken 
nchec  :  I'errot,  the  end  of  Lake  Michi,iL,''an  ami  tlu;  entrance  of  Superior;  Joliet  and  I'ere 
Manpiette,  the  father  of  watc-rs  down  to  the  Arkansas.  In  Talon's  day  Ouehec  rose 
from  hein^'  a  fur-tradini,^  jjost  into  commercial  importance.  He  heliexcd  in  the  counlr\ 
he  had  been  sent  to  woxcrn,  and  was  of  opinion  that  a  wise  national  polic\-  demanded 
the  eiicouraiTcment  in  it  of  e\i'ry  possible  variet\-  of  industrial  development.  Tlis  mantle 
fell  on  none  of  his  successors.  Insteatl  of  fostering  the  industries  'Talon  had  inauj^airated 
anil  tleftMulinL(  tlu;  commercial  libert\'  which  he  had  obtained,  th(.'y  stilled  industry  and 
trade  under  restrictions  and  monopolies.  \ot  that  the  Intendants  were  wholly  to 
blame  ;  they  were  sent  out  on  purpose  to  j^^overn  tlu-  colon}',  not  with  a  view  to  its  own 
benefit,  but  with  a  vii-w  to  the  benefit  of  Okl  Trance.  Neither  the  Kini^'  nor  his  minister 
coukl  conceive  that  Canada  would  benefit  the  mother  countr)-,  onl\'  as  its  material  and 
imlustrial  development  increased.  'Talon  had  twelve  successors.  ( )f  all  these,  th(.'  last. 
Bigot,  was  the  worst.  'To  Bigot  more  than  to  any  other  man  Trance  owes  the  loss  ol 
the  New  World.  He  impoverished  the  people,  nominall)'  for  the  King's  service,  realK 
to  enrich  himself.  'That  the  poor,  plundered,  cheated  liabila)is  were  willing  to  fight  as 
they  ditl  for  the  King,  an.l  that  Montcalm  was  able  to  accomplish  anything  with  the 
commissariat  Bigot  provided,  are  the  wc^nderful  facts  of  the  Concpiest  of  1759,  TIk;  In- 
tendant's  house  was  by  far  the  most  expensive  and  most  splendidly  furnished  in  Quebec. 
It  was  emphatically  "'The  Palace,"  and  the  gate  nearest  it  was  called  the;  I'alace  Ciate. 
It  stood  outside  the  walls, — its  principal  entrance  opposite  the  cliff  on  the  present  line  of 
St.  X'alier  Street,  "under  the  Arsenal;"  whik;  its  spacious  grounds,  beautifully  laitl  out  in 
walks  and  gardens,  e.xtending  over  several  acres,  sloptxl  down  to  the  river  .St.  Charles." 
It  is  described  in  1698  as  having  a  frontage  of  480  feet,  consisting  of  the  Royal  store- 
house and  other  buildings,  in  addition  to  the  Palace  itself,  so  that  it  appeared  a  littlr 
town.  In  1713  it  was  destroyed  by  fire,  but  immediately  rebuilt  in  accordance  with  the 
French  domestic  style  of  the  period,  two  storeys  and  a  basement,  as  shown  by  sketches 
made  by  one  of  the  officers  of  the  fleet  that  accompanied  Wolfe's  expedition.  Here,  no 
matter  what  might  be  the  poverty  of  the  people,  the  Intendant  surrounded  himself  with 
splendour.      In   Bigot's  time  every  form  of  dissipation   ri-igned  in    the    Palace ;    while    thi 

*  Summary  of  the  "  History  of  the  Intend.iiit's  I'alace,"  by  Chaklks  Wai.kkm,  .Militia  Department. 


QUFJiRC.     IIISIORICAL   AXD   DIiSCR/PT/rF. 


69 


Ihihitant,  wlio  had  left  his  farm  to  flight  for  the  Kinj^,  could  hardly  j^'et  a  ration  of 
lil.uk  bread  for  himself,  or  a  son  to  seiul  to  his  starvin^f  wife  ami  little  ones  at 
home.       Our    illustration  shows  all  that  is  left  of  the  nuij^nificent    Palace.       It  arose  out 


of  a  brewery  started  by  Talon  as  a  part  of 

his  national   policy,  and    it    has    returned 

to   be    |iart    of    a    brewer}',  and    for    all    the    luxury   and    bravery    there    is  nothinj^    now 

to   show,   and    the    cheating    and    the    gambling    are,     let    us    hope,    receiving    their    just 

recompense    of    reward. 

The  Governor's  Chateau  is  not.  The  Intendant's  Palace  was  destroyed  more 
th.ui  a  century  ago,  but  the  Bishop's  house,  seminary  and  cathedral  still  remain,  and  the 
bishop,  or  archbishop  as  he  is  now  st\lcd,  is  yet  the  most  potent  personage  in  Quebec. 
I  he  early  bishop,  Laval,  is  one  of  the  historic  figures  of  New  France.  Seen  by 
ritramontane  eyes,  this  first  Canadian  bishop  stands  on  the  highest  pinnacle  of  human 
excellence  and  greatness  ;  the  only  mystery  being  that  the  Church  has  not  yet  canon- 
ized him.  He  did  everything  "  for  the  glory  of  God,"  the  expression  meaning  to 
hini,  as  to  ecclesiastical  fanatics  of  every  creed,  the  glory  of  the  Church,  and  in  some 
measure   the   glory   of  himself.       He  cared  nothing  for  money   or    any    form    of    vulgar 


70  FRliXCU  CAXADJAX  IJFl-    AM)   LllARACIl-K 

PTcatncss.  His  amhitioii  was  loftier.  Me  would  rule  tin;  souls  of  men,  and  woe  to 
the  man  in  his  widely-extended  diocese,  he  he  (iovenior-(  ieneral,  statesina."  merchant,  priest 
or  sa\ai,re,  who  \-entureil  to  call  his  soul  his  own.  True,  none  seemed  mort-  reaily  than 
Laval  to  <^d\e  support  to  the  .Si;ite.  The  Church  was  supreme  onl)'  in  thins^rs  spiritual. 
Kinj^s,  too,  rulei.1  by  Divine  ri^ht.  Hut  then  the  Churth  was  to  instruct  the  Kin^,  or  the 
KiniLj^'s  re])r(.'sentati\-e,  as  to  what  malt('rs  were  ci\il  and  what  s])irilu.d.  hor  instauK. 
when  the  bishop  decided  that  the  introihulion  of  braml)'  into  the  colon\-  was  injurious 
to  reliL;ion,  the  importing'  or  sale  of  brandy  became  a  spiritual  matter.  In  tli;ii 
case  the  (Governor,  on  pain  of  e.xcommunication,  must  punish  t!ie  \cndor  of  brand} 
with  the  pillory,  and,  if  need  be,  with  death.  I^\idently,  ("icneral  Xeal  How  follow-.. 
loui^o  iutcrvaUo,  our  lirst  Canadian  bishop.  Always  t'lL^htini;,  La\al  could  sa\'  ;is 
honestl)'  as  the  Kint;-  himself,  "It  seems  to  me  I  am  the  onl)'  ])ers()n  who  is  alwa\s 
riirht  "  The  constitution  of  the  Church  of  Xi-w  I'rance  took  its  permanent  form  from 
him.  Mis  cleriry  were  his  soldiers.  When  he  said  "March,"  they  marched.  lb 
established  a  lesser  seminary  wheri^  the\'  were  educateil  as  bo)  s,  and  the  i^re.it 
seminary  where  they  were  trained  as  priests.  lie  assigned  their  fields  of  labour, 
changed  them  as  he  saw  meet,  and  provided  a  home  whither,  when  intirm  or 
exhaust(^d  with  labour  or  oKl  age,  they  might  resort,  eithi'r  to  'recruit  or  die  in 
peace.  1  heir  directory  in  life  and  death  was  ever\'  word  that  proceiHled  out  el 
the  mouth  of  the  bisho]).  Other  directory  they  desiretl  not.  To  the  seminary  ,i 
I'niversit)-  under  Ro\a!  Charter  was  attached  in  1S5J,  and  to  that  l'ni\-ersity  Laval's 
name  has  been  deservt'dly  given.  The  Charter,  which  sets  forth  that  the  seminarv 
has  existed  for  two  hundred  years,  constitutes  the  archbisho])  visitor,  and  the  superinr 
and  directors  of  the  si-minary  a  botlv  corporate,  with  all  tlie  privileges  of  a  I'nivci- 
sit\-,  and  full  power  to  make  all  statutes  and  ap|ioint  all  professors.  '  Laval  University 
has  nothing  more  to  ask  from  the  civil  atid  religioits  authorities  to  complete  it-^ 
constitittion,"  is  the  amiouncein  ,  t  of  its  board  ot  government.  Its  koval  Chartri 
assimilates  it  to  the  most  favoured  Lniversily  of  the  Lnited  Kingdom,  while  tin 
sovereign  pontiff,  Pius  the  Ninth,  magniticeiuK  crowned  the  edifice  bv  according  t(i 
it   in    1S76  solemn   canom'cal    hotiours  by  the    Hull    "inter  riir/tis  so/ii/'/ini/ncs." 

I'Vom  the  opposite  shore  of  Levis,  Laval  Lniversity,  statiding  in  the  most 
commanding  position  in  the  upper  town,  towering  to  a  height  of  five  storeys,  is  the 
most  conspicuous  building  in  Quebec.  The  .American  tourist  takes  it  for  the  cliirt 
hotel  of  the  place,  and  congratulates  himself  that  a  child  of  the  monster  hotels  he 
loves  has  found  its  way  north  of  th(  line.  When  he  finds  that  it  is  only  a  University, 
he  visits  it  as  a  matter  o»  ■  ourse,  looks  at  the  library  and  museum,  remarking  casually 
on  their  inferiority  to  those  in  any  one  of  the  four  hundred  and  odd  Universities  in 
the  United  .States,  and  comes  out  iti  a  few  minutes,  likely  encnigh  without  havi  i.i,' 
gone  to  the  roof  to  see  one  of  the  most  glorious  panoramas  in   the   New  World.      Il-n 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AND  DESCRIPTIl'E 


71 


\ 


^iMSMJSiitiSnfs. 


AI     nil:    (lAII.     (II      I.WAI.     IMVIKSIIA' 


111'  is,  at  th<'  j^atc.  Hlcssin^s  on  his  serene,  kiinll\'  sense  of  su|)iTiorit\-  to  all  men  or 
tliiiii^fs  in  heaven  or  on  eartli  I  lie  has  seen  iiothini^  that  can  compare  for  a 
iii'iinent  with  .Slickville,  I^ni,rlishmen,  I'renchinen,  Sisters,  stiulents.  Canadian  soKliers. 
li'ilians,  are  round  al)out,  hut  he  alone  is  monarch  of  all  he  sur\cys.  A  strantje 
si-ht  arrests  his  attention.      Yoiin^r  Canada,  cap  in   hand,   cap  actiialK'  off  his    head,  and 


^ 


72  FRE\'CH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


head  reverently  bowed  while  a  priest  speaks  a  kind  word  or  perhaps  gives  his  blessing  I 
This  is  something  new,  and  he  is  too  good  an  observer  not  to  make  a  note  of  it. 
congratulating  himself  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  willing  to  make  allowances.  Is 
it  not  his  "specialty,"  as  John  Ruskin  hath  it,  "his  one  gift  to  the  race — to  show  men 
how    not  to  worship  ? " 

A  Canadian  may  be  pardoned  for  calling  attention  to  the  significance  of  the 
grant,  by  the  British  Government,  of  a  Royal  Charter  to  Laval  University.  The 
trust  in  an  hierarchy  that  the  people  trust,  illustrates  the  fundamental  principle  of  its  %. 
policy  in  Canada.  No  matter  what  the  question,  so  long  as  it  is  not  inconsistent  with 
the  Queen's  supremacy,  Canada  is  governed  in  accordance  with  the  constitutionally 
expressed  wishes  of  the  people  of  each  Province.  The  success  which  has  attended  the 
frank  acceptance  of  this  principle  suggests  the  only  possible  solution  of  that  Irish 
Question  which  still  baffles  statesmen.  What  has  worked  like  a  charm  here  ought  to 
work  in  another  part  of  the  Empire.  Here,  we  have  a  million  of  people  opposed  in 
race,  religion,  character  and  historical  associations  to  the  majority  of  Canadians,  a 
people  whose  forefathers  fought  England  for  a  century  and  a  half  on  the  soil  on 
which  the  children  are  now  living ;— a  Celtic  people,  massed  together  in  one  Province, 
a  people  proud,  sensitive,  submissive  to  their  priests,  and  not  very  well  educated ; — this 
people  half  a  century  ago  badgered  every  Governor  that  Britain  sent  out,  stopped  the 
supplies,  embarrassed  authority,  and  at  last  broke  out  into  open  rebellion.  Now,  they 
are  peaceai)le,  contented,  prosperous.  They  co-operate  for  all  purposes  of  good  govern- 
ment with  the  other  Provinces,  do  no  intentional  injustice  to  the  Protestant  minority  of 
their  own  Province,  and  are  so  heartily  loyal  to  the  central  authority  that  it  has 
become  almost  an  unwritten  law  to  select  the  Minister  of  War  from  their  representatives 
in  Parliament.  Let  him  who  runs  read,  and  read,  too,  the  answer  of  D'Arcy  McGee  to 
those  who  wondered  that  the  young  rebel  in  Ireland  should  be  the  mature  ardent 
admirer  of  British  government  in  Canada:  "If  in  my  day  Ireland  had  been  governed 
as  Canada  is  now  governed,  I  would  have  been  as  sound  a  constitutionalist  as  is  to 
be  found  in   Ireland." 

The  best  thing  Louis  XI\\  did  for  Quebec  was  the  sending  to  it  of  the  regi- 
ment of  Carignan-Salieres.  A  few  companies  of  veterans,  led  by  Canadian  blue-coats, 
penetrated  by  the  Richelieu  to  the  lairs  of  the  Iroquois,  and  struck  such  terror 
into  them  that  the  colony  was  thenceforth  allowed  to  breathe  and  to  grow.  Still 
better,  when  the  regiment  was  disbanded,  most  of  the  soldiers  remained,  and  many 
of  the  picturesque  towns  and  villages  that  have  grown  up  along  the  Richelieu 
and  St.  Lawrence  owe  their  names  to  the  officers,  to  whom  large  seignorial  rights 
were  given  by  the  King  on  condition  of  their  settling  in  the  colony.  From  these 
veterans  sprang  a  race  as  adventurous  and  intrepid  as  ever  lived.  Their  exploits  as 
salt-water   and    fresh-water   sailors,    as   courcurs   dc   his,  discoverers,  soldiers    regular  and 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE  7Z 

• 

irregular,  fill  many  a  page  of  old  Canadian  history.  Whether  with  the  gallant  brothers 
Le  Moyne,  defending  Quebec  against  Sir  William  Phipps,  or  striking  terror  into  New 
York  and  New  England  by  swift  forays  such  as  Hertel  de  Rouville  led ;  or  with 
Du  Lhut  and  Durantaye,  breaking  loose  from  the  strait -jacket  in  which  Royal  In- 
tendants  imprisoned  the  colony,  and  abandoning  themselves  to  the  savage  freedom  of 
western  fort  and  forest  life ;  or  under  D'Iberville,  most  celebrated  of  the  seven  sons 
of  Charles  Le  Moyne,  sweeping  the  English  flag  from  Newfoundland  and  Hudson's 
Bay  or  colonizing  Louisiana;  or  with  Jumonville  and  his  brother  on  the  Ohio,  de- 
feating Washington  and  Braddock  ;  or  vainly  conquering  at  VovX.  William  Henry  and 
Carillon  and  Montmorency  and  Ste.  Foye, — the  picture  is  always  full  of  life  and  colour. 
Whatever  else  may  fail,  valour  and  devotion  to  the  King  never  fail.  We  find  the 
dare-devil  courage  joined  with  the  gaiety  of  heart  and  ready  accommodation  to  cir- 
cumstances that  make  the  Frenchman  popular,  alike  with  friendly  savages  and  civil- 
ized foemen,  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  Canadian  experiences  developed  in  the  old 
French  stock  new  qualities,  good  and  bad,  the  good  predominating.  \'ersed  in  all 
kinds  of  woodcraft,  handling  an  a.xe  as  a  modern  tourist  handles  a  tooth-pick,  managing 
a  canoe  like  Indians,  inured  to  the  climate,  supplying  themselves  on  the  march  with 
food  from  forest  or  river  and  cooking  it  in  the  most  approved  style,  fearing  neither 
frost  nor  ice,  depth  of  snow  nor  depth  of  muskeg,  independent  of  roads, — such  men 
needed  only  a  leader  who  understood  them  to  go  anywhere  into  the  untrodden 
depths  of  the  New  World,  and  to  do  anything  that  man  could  do.  Such  a  leader 
they  found  in  Louis  de  Buade,  Compte  de  Palleau  et  de  I'Vontenac.  Buade  Street 
recalls  his  name,  and  there  is  little  else  in  the  old  city  that  does,  though  Quebec 
loved  him  well  in  his  day.  Talon  had  done  all  that  man  could  do  to  develop  the 
infant  colony  by  means  of  a  national  policy  that  stimulated  industry,  and  an  immi- 
gration policy,  wise  and  vigorous  enough,  as  far  as  his  appeals  to  the  King  and 
Colbert  went,  for  the  nineteenth  century.  Ano  her  man  was  needed  to  enable  the 
tiiin  line  of  colonists  to  make  head  against  the  formidable  Irocjuois.  backed  as  they 
were  by  the  Dutch  and  I'^nglish  of  New  \'ork,  and  against  the  citizen  sailors  and 
soldiers  of  New  England ;  to  direct  their  energies  to  the  Great  West ;  to  make  them 
feel  that  the  power  of  Prance  was  with  them,  no  matter  how  far  they  wandered 
from  Quebec ;  and  to  inspire  them  with  the  thought  that  the  whole  unbounded  con- 
tinent was  theirs  by  right.  Such  a  man  was  PVontenac.  Of  his  quarrels  with  intendants 
and  clergy  it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  speak.  To  defend  him  from  the  accusations 
made  against  his  honour  is  unnecessary.  How  could  (juarrels  be  avoided  where  three 
otticials  lived,  each  having  some  reason  to  believe,  in  accordance  with  the  profound 
state-craft  of  the  Old  Regime,  that  he  was  the  supreme  ruler!  Frontenac  was  titular 
head,  and  he  would  be  the  real  head.  Neithtir  bishops  nor  intendants  should  rule 
in    his   day,   and    they    did  not,  and  could  not.     They  could  worry  him  and  even  secure 


74 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AN/)   CHARACTFR 


his    recall,  but  they  could   not  rrovern   the  colony  when   they  got   th(;  chance.      I'Vontenac 

had   to   he  sent  hack   to  his 
post,  and  the  universal  joy 
with  which  the    people    re- 
ceived him  showed  that,  as 
usual,    the  peojjle  o\erlook 
irritabilities    and    shortcom- 
ings, and  discern  the  man. 
"He   would    have    been    a 
great   prince  if  heaven  had 
placed    him    on    a    throne," 
says  Charlevoix.     The  good 
Jesuit    forgets    that     bVon- 
tenac    was    the     only    man 
who  sought  to  ascertain  by 
ancient  legitimate   methods 
the  views  of   all    classes  of 
the    people,     and     that    as 
Quebec  was  shut  out  from 
communication      with      the 
throne     for     half     the 
year,  the  (iovernor  had 
to   act  as  a  king  or  to 
see  the  country  without 
a  head.     Fronte- 
nac      understood 
the    great    game 
that     was    being 
plaxcd     for     the 
sovereignty        of 
this  continent. 
He    had     almost 
boundless     influ- 
ence     over      the 
Indians,    because 
lie       appreciated 
them,   and  in  his 


HUAni-:  STRKKT. 
Named    after   I'ronteiiac. 


heart  of  hearts    was    one 

of    themselves.      No   one  understood    so    well  ^\^ 

what  Indians  were  fitted   to  do  in   the   wild   warfare 

that    the    situation  demanded.      At    the  time    of   his 

death  all   signs  betokened    that    France   was  to  dominate   the    New    World.     The   treaties 

Champlain    had   maiU;  with  the   Indians   held    good.       The    tribes    farther    west   had    allied 


OUF.BRC:    HISTORICAL   AND   DESCRIPTH'E 


ith    the  French.     At  every  strategic   point   the 

ide  fort. 
(.'  was  linked  by  lines  of  military  communi- 
1  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Quebec  had  proud- 
le  church  of  Xotre  Dame  de  hi  X'ictoire 
norate  the  defeat  of  New  l-lngland,  and  the 
power  of  the  terrible  Iroquois  had  been  so 

threaten 


ciirru[ 

thi-  issue   remotely.      Hisrot  and  his  vile  cutonrao;c  had 

to    do    with    it    immediately.       Hut    by    no    possibility 

t'ould    sixty    thousand    poor,    uneducated    Canadians    continue    to 

nsist    the  ever-increasing   weight  of    twenty  or    thirf,-  times  their 

number    of     thrifty,    intelligent    neighbours.       Wolfe    might    have 

l"<Mi    defeated    on     the    Plains    of    .■\braham.       When    we    think   of    Mont- 

cahn's   military  genius,  the  victories  gained  by   him    against    heavy  odds   in 

Ijrevious    campaigns,    and    his    defeat    of    Wolfe's   grenadiers    a    few    weeks 

h'fore     the    final     struggle,    our   wonder    indeed    is    that    the     Ikitish    were 

not    hurled  over  those  steep   cliffs  they  had  so  painfully  clambered  up  on   that   memorable 


I, 


''I 


76  FRF^MCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

early  September  morning.  Scotchmen  attributed  the  result  to  those  men  "  in  the  garb  of 
old  Gaul,  with  the  tire  of  old  Rome."  whom  the  Ikitish  Covernment  had  been 
wise  enough  to  organize  into  regiments  out  of  the  clans  who  a  few  )ears  before 
had  marched  victoriously  from  their  own  northern  glens  into  the  heart  of  Eng- 
land. And  Wolfe,  had  he  lived,  would  probably  have  agreed  with  them.  For.  when 
he  told  the  grenadiers,  after  their  defeat,  that,  if  they  had  supposed  that  they 
alone  could  beat  the  French  army,  he  hoped  they  had  found  out  their  mistake,  his 
tone  indicated  a.  boundless  confidence  in  his  Highlanders  more  flattering  than  any 
eulogy.  Hut  the  most  crowning  victory  for  Montcalm  would  onh'  ha\e  delayed  the 
inevitable.  Other  armies  were  converging  towards  Quebec.  And  behind  the  armies 
was  a  population,  already  cv)unting  itself  bj,-  millions,  determined  on  the  destruction 
of  that  nest  on  the  northern  rock  whence  hornets  were  ever  issuing  to  sting  and 
madden.  No  one  understood  the  actual  state  of  affairs  better  than  Montcalm.  He 
knew  that  France  had  practically  abandoned  Canada,  and  left  him  to  make  the  best 
tight  he  could  for  his  own  honour  against  hopeless  odds.  Hence  that  precipitate  attack 
on  Wolfe,  for  which  he  has  been  censured.  He  kn-^w  that  every  hour's  delay  would 
increase  Wolfe's  relative  strength.  I  lence,  too,  that  abandonment  of  the  whole  cause, 
after  the  battle,  for  which  he  has  been  censured  still  more  severely.  "  I  will  neither 
give  orders  nor  interfere  any  further,"  he  exclaimeil  with  emotion,  when  urged  to  issue 
instructions  about  the  di-fc  i  ce  of  the  city.  He  had  tlont.'  all  that  man  could  ilo. 
He  had  seal<  1  his  loyalty  with  his  blood.  And  now,  seeing  that  the  stars  in  their 
courses  were  fighting  against  the  cause  he  had  so  gallantly  upheld,  and  that  the  issue 
was  pre-determined,  he  would  take  no  more  responsibility.  He  knew,  too,  that  his 
best  avengers  would  be  found  in  the  ranks  of  his  enemies  ;  that  Britain  in  crushing 
French  power  in  its  seat  of  strength  in  America,  was  overreaching  herself,  and  {pre- 
paring a  loss  out  of  all  proportion  to  tiie  present  gain.  He  appreciated  the  "  Bostonnais;" 
predicting  that  they  would  never  submit  to  an  island  thousands  of  miles  away  when 
they  controlled  the  continent,  whereas  the\  would  have  remained  loyal  if  a  hostile 
power  held  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  Lakes.  Was  he  not  right  ?  And  had  not  Pitt 
and  Wolfe,  then,  as  nuicii  to  do  with  bringing  about  the  separation  of  the  Thirteen 
States  from   the  mother  country,  as   I'"ranklin  and   Washington  ? 

The  story  of  the  campaigns  of  1 759-60  need  not  be  told  here.  Every  incident 
is  familiar  to  the  traditional  school-boy.  Every  tourist  is  sure  to  visit  Wolfe's  Cov( 
for  himself,  and  to  ascend  the  heights  called  after  the  old  .Scottish  pilot  "Abraham' 
Martin.  No  sign  of  war  now.  Rafts  of  timber  in  the  Cove,  and  ships  from  all 
waters  to  carry  it  away,  instead  of  boats  crowded  with  rugged  Highlanders  silent  a^ 
the  grave.  No  trouble  apprehended  by  any  one,  e.xcept  from  stevedores  whose  right  ii 
is  to  dictate  terms  to  commerce  and  occasionally  to  throw  the  city  into  a  state  of  siege. 
No  precipice  now,  the   face  of  which       ust  l)e  scaled   on    hantls   and   knees.       A   pleasant 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AXD  DESCRIPTH'E 


1 1 


load  leads  to  the  Plains,  and  you  and  your  party  can  drive  leisurely  up.  There, 
before  you,  across  the  common,  is  the  modest  column  that  tells  where  Wolfe  "died 
victorious."  Between  it  and  the  Citadel  are  Martello  towers,  diyginy^  near  one  of 
which  some  years  ago,  skeletons  were  found,  and  military  buttons  anc.  buckles,  the 
dreary  pledges,  held  by  battle-fields,  of  human  valour  and  devotion  and  all  the  pomp 
aiul  circumstance  of  war.  You  must  drive  into  the  city  to  see  the  monument  that 
commemorates  the  joint  glory  of  Montcalm  and  Wolfe  ;  and  out  again,  to  see  the 
third  monument,  sacred  to  the  memory  of  the  braves  who.  under  the  skilful  Ue 
Levis,   uselessly  avenged  at  Ste.  Foye  the  defeat  of   Montcalm. 

rhe  red-cross  flag    floated  over   the  Chateau  of   St.    Louis,    and    New   England  gave 


0\1  Kl.(H)KIN(i  ST.  CHAKLKS  VAI.I.KV. 

thanks.  I'ifteen  years  passed  awa\', 
and  Montcalm's  prediction  was  fulfilled. 
The  "Hostonnais"  were  in  rt^volt.  Wise  with  the  teaching  of  more  than  a  century, 
they  at  the  outset  determined  to  secure  the  St.  Lawrence  ;  and  they  woulil  have 
succeeded,  had  it  not  been  for  the  same  strong  rock  of  Quebec  which  had  foiled 
them  so  often  in  the  old  colonial  days.  Arnold  ad\ancetl  through  the  roadless  wildfniess 
of  Maine,  defying  swamps,  forests,  and  innumerable  privations  as  hardily  as  ever  did 
thr  old  Canadian  noblvssc  when  they  raided  the  \  illages  and  forts  of  Maine.  Montgomery 
swept  the  British  garrisons  from  the  Richelieu  and  Montreal,  and  joined  Arnold  at 
the  appointed  rendezvous.  Thi'ir  success  must  have  astonished  themselves.  The 
<\pIanation  is  that  the  colony  had  no  garrisons  to  speak  of.  anil  that  the  L>ench 
Canadians  felt  that  the  quarrel  was  none  of  their  making.  In  a  month  all  Canada 
Quebec  excepted — had  been  gained  for  Congress  ;  and  there  was  no  garrison  in  Quebec 
<apable  of  resisting  the  combined  forces  that  Arnold  and  Montgomery  led.  But  Guy 
(  irleton  reached  Quebec,  and  another  proof  was  given  to  the  world  that  one  man  may 
1'     eipial   to  a  garrison.      In  a  few    days    he  had  breathed  his  own  spirit  into  the  militia, 


78 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


ovi:ri.ookin<;  noktii  ciiannki,. 

From    Ciraml     Matti-ry    and     Laval     University. 

native   Canadians  as  well  as   British  l)orn. 
Ihe     inxatlers    established    themselves    in 
the    Intendant's    Palace  and    other    houses 
near    the     walls,     antl    after     a     month's     siey^e     made     a 
resolute    attempt    to    take;   the    city   by  storm.       Whatever 
may  have  been   the    result    of    a    more    precipitate   attack, 
the    delay     unquestionably    afforded    greater     advantages 


QUBiiF.c.   msroRicAL  Axn  PEscRinrn'R 


79 


to  the  l)(jsi(;gecl  lliati  to  the  besiegers.      Mont- 
'4()in('r\'    s(,'t    out    fiom   Wolfe's  Cove  and  cre[)t 
alonj,^  the  narrow  pathway  now  known  as  Cham- 
phiin   Street.     Arnold  advanced  from  the  oppo- 
sil(;   direction.      His  intention  was  to  force    his 
way  round   by  what   is   now  St.   Koch's  suburbs, 
below    lh(.'    ramparts,    and    under    the    cliff    at 
present  crowncnl  by   Laval   University  and    the 
(irand    Hatt(.T\-,   and    to    meet    Montj^omery  at 
the    foot  of    Mountain    llill,    when  their  united 
forces     would     entleavour     to    j,rain     the     upper 
town.       Not     the     first     fraction     of    the    plan, 
on     the     one     side     or     the     other,     succeeded. 
.Arnold's    men    were    surrounded    and   captured. 
Montgomery,      marching 
in  the  gray  dawn  through 
a      heavy      snow  -  storm, 
came     u])on     a     baltt-ry 
that      blockeil      up      the 


n  a  r  r  o  w  pathway. 
He  rushed  forward, 
hoping  to  take  it  by 
surprise  ;  but  the 
gunners  were  on  the 
alert,  and  the  first 
discharge  swept  him 
and  the  head  of  his 
column,  maimed  or 
dead,  into  the  deep 
white  snow  or  over 
the  bank.  The  snow 
continued  to  fall, 
quietly    effacing    all 


WOLFF.'S 

mom'mf:nt. 


MAKTKI.I.O  TOWKR. 
On   the    Plains   of   Abraham. 


signs  of  the  conflict.  A  few  hours  after,  Montgomery's  body  was  found  lying 
in  the  snow,  stark  and  stiff,  and  was  carried  to  a  small  log-house  in  St.  Louis 
Street.  No  more  gallant  soldier  fell  in  the  Revolutionary  War.  Nothing  now  could 
l)e  done  even  by  the  daring  Arnold,  though  he  lingered  till  spring.  One  whiff  of 
grape-shot    had    decided    that    Congress     must     needs    leave     its    ancient     foe     to    itself. 


8o 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


to    work    out    its    destinies    in    connection    with    that    British    Empire    which    it    had    so 
long  defied. 

That  decision  has  ruled  events  ever  since.  From  that  day  to  this,  constitutional 
(questions  have  occupied  the  attention  of  the  Canadian  people,  instead  of  military  ambition 
and  the  game  of  war.  No  such  questions  could  emerge  under  the  Old  Regime.  Consti- 
tutional development  was  tlu-ii  impossible.  The  fundamental  principle  of  the  Old  Regime 
was  that  the  spiritual  and  the  civil  powers  ruled  all  subjects  by  Divine  right,  and  therefore 

that  tlu-  first  and  last  duty  of  govern- 
ment was  to  train  the  people  under  a 
long  line  of  absolute  functionaries,  re 
ligious  and  civil,  to  obey  the  powers 
that  be.  A  d(;mand  for  representative 
institutions  could  hardly  be  expecteil 
to  come  in  those  circumstances  from 
the  I'Vcnch  Canadians.  Their  ambition 
extended  no  further  than  the  hope  that 
they  might  be  governed  (economically, 
on  a  hard-money  basis,  and  according 
to  their  own  traditions.  Their  relation 
to  the  lanil,  their  disposition,  habits 
and  training,  their  unquenchable  Celtic 
love  for  their  language,  laws  and  re- 
ligion, made  them  eminently  conserva- 
tive. From  the  day  the  British  tlag  floated  over  their  heads,  they  came;  into  the 
possession  of  rights  and  privileges  of  which  their  fathers  had  never  dreamed.  The 
contrast  between  their  condition  under  Great  Britain  with  what  it  had  been  under 
France,  could  not  be  described  more  forcibly  than  it  was  by  Papineau  in  the  year 
1820  on  the  hustings  of  Montreal: — "Then — under  I'rance^^^trade  was  monopolised  by 
privileged  Companies,  public  and  private  property  often  pillaged,  and  the  inhabitants 
dragged  year  after  year  from  their  homes  and  families  to  shed  their  blood,  from  the 
shores  of  the  Great  Lakes,  from  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  Ohio,  to  Nova 
Scotia,  Newfoundland,  and  Hudson's  Bay.  Now,  religious  toleration,  trial  by  jury,  the 
act  of  Habeas  Corpus,  afford  legal  and  equal  security  to  all,  and  we  need  submit  to  no 
other  laws  but  those  of  our  own  making.  All  these  advantages  have  become  our 
birthright,  and  shall,  I  hope,  be  the  lasting  inheritance  of  our  i)Osterity."  But  a  disturbing 
element  had  gradually  worked  its  way  among  the  habitans,  in  the  form  of  merchants, 
ofificials,  and  other  British  residents  in  the  cities,  and  United  Empire  Loyalists  from 
the  States,  and  disbanded  soldiers,  to  whom  grants  of  land  had  been  made  in  various 
parts   of    the    Province,  and    especially    in    the  eastern  townships.       From    this    minority 


IHASI:;    10  WHICH  MO.NTGO.MKRVS  MODV  WAS  C.XkKUa). 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AXP   DESCRIPTH'E  81 

came    the  first  demand  for  larjjjer    liberty.       These  men  of    British  antecedents   feh    that 
they  could   not  and  would  not  tolerate  military  sway  or  civil  ahsohitisin.      They  demanded, 
and  they  tauj^ht  the  Gallo-Canadians  to  ilemand,  the  rights  of  free  men.       At  the  same 
time,  immijjjration  bejjjan   to  llow  into  that  western   part  of  Canada,  now  called  the  Province 
of  Ontario.       It    could    easil)'    be  foreseen     that    this    western    part   would    continue    to 
receive    a  population   essentially  different    from    that  of    Eastern  or    Lower    Canada.       A 
wise    statesmanship    resolved    to    allow    the    Eastern    and    Western    sections    to    develop 
according  to  their  own  sentiments,  and  to  give  to  all  Canatia  a  constitution   modelled,  as 
f.ir    as  the  circumstances  of   the  age  and  country  permitted,  on   the   British   Constitution. 
To  secure   these  objects,  Mr.  Pitt  passed  the  Act  of   1791 — an   Act  that  well   deserves  the 
name,  subsequently  given   to   it,  of  the  first  "  Magna  Charta  of  Canadian  freedom."     The 
hill  dividend  the  ancient   "  Province  of  Quebec"  into  two  distinct  colonies,  under  the  names 
of   L'ppcr  and    Lowi-r  Canada,  each  section  to  have  a   separate  elective  Assembly.       I'o.x 
strenuously   opposed    the   division   of    Canada.      "  It   would   be  wiser,"  he  said,   "  to    unite 
still    more  closely  the  two  races  than  separate  them."      lUirkt;  lent  the  weight  of  political 
])hilosoi)hy  to  the  ])ractical  statesmanship  of   Pitt.       "  b'or   us    to  attempt   to  amalgamate 
two  populations  composetl  of  races  of  men  diverse  in   language,  laws  and  habitudes,  is  a 
complete  absurdity,"  he  warmly  argued.      Pitt's   policy  combinetl  all   that  was  valuable  in 
the  arguments  of   both   Vox  and   Burke.       It  was  designed  to  accomplish  all   that  is  now 
accomplished,  acconling  to  the  spirit  as    well  as    the    forms  of    the    British    Constitution, 
l)y  that  federal    system   under  which   we  are    happily  living.       In    order  to  make  the  Act 
of   1791    successful,  only  fair  play  was  recpiired,  or  a  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  leaders 
of  the  people  to    accept  it    loyally.       All  constitutions    require    that    :is    the    condition    of 
success.       Under  Pitt's    Act    the    bounds  of    freedom  could  have    been  widened  gradually 
and    peacefully.       But   it  did   not  get   fair  play  in    Lower  Canada,  from  either   the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  minority  or  of  the  ir.ajority  of  the  people.     The  minority  had  clamoured 
lor   representative  institutions.       They  got    them,  and    then   made  the  tliscovery  that  the 
gift  implied  the  government  of  the  country,   not  according  to  their  wishes,  but  according 
to  the  wishes  of    the  great  body  of    the  people.       Naturally  enough,   they  then   fell  back 
on  the  Legislative  Council,   holding    that  it  shouUl  be  composed  of    men  of    British   race 
only    or    their    sympathisers,    and    that    the     Executive    should    be    guided     not    by    the 
r(|)resentative    Chamber,  but    by  the    Divinely-appointed  Council.       On    the    other    hand. 
tlu'  representatives  of  the  majority   soon  awoke  to  understand  the  power  of   the  weapon 
that  had  been    put   into    their  hands.       When  they  did  understand,   there  was  no  end  to 
lli'ir  delight  in    the  use  of    the    weapon.       A    boy  is  ready  to  use  his  first    jack-knife  or 
hatchet  on  anything  and  everything.      So  they  acted,  as  if   their  new   weapon  could    not 
b<    used   too    much.       As   with    their   countrymen    in    Old    France,    their    logical    powers 
interfered    with  their   success    in    the  practical  work  of  government.     They  were  slow  to 
l<arn  that  life  is  broader    than    logic,  and  that   free  institutions  are   possible  only  by  the 


I 


82  rRE\Xll  CANADIAN  Urii  AND   CHARACTER 

practici.'  of  imitual  forbearance  towards  each  other  of  the  different  bodies  amonj^f  whom 
the  siiprcinc  power  is  tlistributed.  Still,  the  measun;  of  constitutional  freedom  that  hail 
been  generously  bestowed  had  its  le)j;itimate  effect  on  the  I'Vench-Canadians.  They 
learni'd  to  appeal  to  British  precedents,  and  a  lov(!  of  Mritish  institutions  bej,'an  to  take 
possession  of  their  minds.  Nothing  demonstrates  this  more  satisfactorily  than  the  con- 
trast between  their  inaction  during  1775-6,  and  their  united  anil  heart)  action  during  the 
war  of  1S12-15.  That  war,  which  may  be  regarded  as  an  episode  in  the  constitutional 
history  we  are  sketching,  teaches  to  all  who  are  willing  to  be  taught  several  important 
lessons.  It  showed  that  I'Vench-Canadians  had  not  forgotten  how  to  tight,  and  that  ac- 
cording as  they  were  trusted  so  would  they  tight.  No  better  illustration  can  be  given 
than  Chateauguay,  where  Colonel  de  Salaberry  with  300  Canadian  militiamen  anil  a  few- 
Id  ighlanders  victoriously  drove  back  an  army  7000  strong.  The  Canadians  everywhere 
Hew  to  arms,  in  a  quarrel,  too,  with  the  bringing  on  of  which  the\'  had  nothing  to  do. 
The  Ciovernor  sent  the  regular  troops  to  the  frontiers,  ami  confided  the  guardianship  of 
Quebec  to  the  city  militia,  while  men  like  Hedard  who  had  been  accused  of  "treason," 
because  they  understood  the  spirit  of  the  Constitution  better  than  their  accusers,  were 
appointed  officers.  Successive  campaigns  proveil,  not  only  that  Canada  was  unconquer- 
able— ^even  against  a  people  then  fort)-  times  as  numerous — because  of  the  spirit  of  its 
peoi)le,  its  glorious  winters,  and  northern  fastnesses,  but  also  because  an  unprovoked 
war  u|)on  Canada  will  nev(,T  command  the  united  support  of  the  |)eople  of  the  States. 
When  the  w-ar  was  declared  in  1S12,  several  of  the  New  ICngland  States  refused  their  ipiotas 
of  militia.  The  Legislature  of  Maryland  declared  that  they  had  acted  constitutionally  in 
refusing.  .And  all  over  New-  F!ngland  secession  was  seriously  threatened.  What  happened 
then  would  occur  again,  under  other  forms,  if  an  effort  were  made  to  conquer  four 
or  five  millions  of  Canadians,  in  order  to  make  them  citizens  of  free  .States.  .Should 
either  political  party  propose  it,  that  party  would  seal  its  own  ruin.  .\  great  Christian 
people  will  struggle  unitedly  and  religiously  to  free  millions,  never  to  subdue  millions. 
Should  momentary  madness  drive  them  to  attempt  the  commission  of  the  crime,  the 
consequence  would  more  likely  be  the  disruption  of  the  Republic  than  the  concjuest  of 
Canada. 

So  much  the  episode  of  181 2-15  teaches,  read  in  the  light  of  the  present  day. 
When  the  war  was  over,  the  struggles  for  constitutional  development  were  resumed. 
Complicated  in  Lower  Canada  by  misunderstandings  of  race,  they  broke  out  in  'the 
troubles"  or  sputterings  of  rebellion  of  1837-38.  The  forcible  reunion  of  the  two 
Canadas  in  1840  was  a  temporary  measure,  necessitated  probably  by  those  troubles.  It 
led  to  friction,  irritations,  a  necessity  for  double  majorities,  and  perpetual  deadlocks.  Did 
not  Pitt  in  1791  foresee  these  as  the  sure  results  in  the  long  run  of  any  such  union, 
beautiful  in  its  simplicity  though  it  appears  to  doctrinaires  ?  The  confederation  of  British- 
America  in   1867  put  an  end  to    the  paralysis,  by  the   adoption  of   the  federal    principle, 


QUEBEC:    mSTORICAI.   AND  DESCRlPTllE  8 


.■) 


ami  the  ordained  extension  of  Canada  to  its  natural  boundarie:;  of  three  oceans  on  three 
s!iles  and  the  watersheil  of  the  Ami;rican  continent  on  the  fourth.  I'ull  self-^'ovcTnment 
ii.ivinjf  now  been  attained,   our  position  is  no  lonj^er  colonial. 

What,   then,   is  our  destiny  to  be?     Whatever  Goil  wills.      The  onl)-   points   clear  as 
siinlijjht  to  us  as  a  people  are,  that  'Janada  is  fnu-,  and  that  we  dare  not  break   up  the 
unity  of  the  grandest   ICnipire  the  world  has  ever  known,     .\nne.\ation  has  been  advocated, 
but  no  one  has  proved  that  such  a  chanj^^e  would  be,  even  conunercially.  to  our  advanta^^e. 
We    would    j,fet    closer    to    lifly    and    be    removed     farther     from     two     hundred     millions. 
I'oliticalh',   Canada  would  cease  to  e.xist.      She  would  serve   merely  as  a   make-wei^dit    to 
the   Republican  or   Democratic  party.       The   I'Vench-Canadian    element,   so  j^reat  a  factor 
aiiualK'  and  potentially  in  our  national  life,  woukl  bcjcomc;  a  nullity.      We  would  surrender 
all  hopes  of  a  distinctive  future.       Stran^u-rs    would    rule    over  us;    for  we  are  too  weak 
to  resist  the  alien  forces,  and  too  stronj,' to  h\i  readily  assimilated.     Our  neighbours  are  a 
^neat  people.     .So  are  the  French  and  the  Germans.      Hut   Belgium  does  not  pray  to  be 
absorbed    into    France,    and    Holland    would    not    consent    to   be   anne.xed    to    Germany. 
Looking  at  the  question  in  the  light  of  the  past  and  with  f(iresight    of   the    future,  ami 
from  the  point  of  view  of  all  the  higher  considerations  that    sway    men.  we    say,   in    the 
«in|)iuitic  language  of    .Scripture,  "It  is  a  shame  even  to  speak"  of   such  a  thing.       We 
would  repent  it  only  once,  and  that  would    be  forever.       Their  ways  are  no*   our   ways; 
ihcir  thoughts,   traditions,  history,  are  not  our    thoughts,   traditions,   hi.Uory.       The    occa- 
sional cry  for  Independence  is  more    honourable;    but,  to  break    our    national    continuity 
in  cold  blood,  to  cut    ourselves    loose    from    the    capital    and  centre  of    our  strength  !    to 
*;ain— what?      A  thou^aid    possibilities    of    danger,  and   not  an  atom  of  added    strength. 
What,  then,  are  we  to  do?     "Things    cannot    remain  as  they    are,"  we  are  told.       Who 
says  that  they  can  ?     They  have  been  changing    every    decade.        The    future    will    bring 
clianges  with  it,  and  wisdom  too,  let  us  hope,  such  as  our  fathers  had,  to  enable  us  to  do  our 
duty  in  the  premises.      In  the  meantime,  we  have  enough  to  ilo.      W^e  have  to    simplify 
th(    machinery  of  our  government,  to  make  it  less  absurdly  e.xpensive,  and  to  disembarrass 
it  of  patronage.      We  have  to  put  an  emphatic  stop  to  the  increase    of    the   public  del)t. 
W  <•  have    to  reclaim    half   a    continent,  and    throw    doors    wide    open    that    millions    may 
vnicr  in.     We  have  to  grow  wiser  and  better.      We  have  to  guard  our  own  heads  while 
wr  seek  to  do  our  duty  to  our  day  and  generation.      Is  not  that  work    (.-nough    for    the 
II' \t    half    century?       No    one    is    likely    to    interfere    with    us,    but    we    are    not    thereby 
ah^^olved  from  the  responsibility  of    keeping  up  the  defences  of  Halifax  and  Quebec,  and 
fortifying   Montreal  by  a  cincture  of    detached    forts.       These    cities    safe,  Canada    might 
111'  invaded,   but  could  not  be  held.       But  what    need    of   defence,  when    we    are    assured 
■  that  "our  best    defence  is  no  defence."       Go  to  the  mayors  of   our  cities  and    bid    them 
dismiss    the    police.       Tell    bankers    not    to    keep    revolvers,  and    householders    to    poison 
I  th(  ir    watch -dogs.      At   one  stroke   we   save    what   we   are    expending   on    all   the   old- 


8a 


FRHXCff  CANAD/AX  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


fashioned  arr;ui.^H'iiH;nts  of  the  Dark  Ai,u!s.      It  has  hern  (hscovercd  that  the  "best  defence; 

is  no  deffiui'  1 " 

It  cliH's  not    h.'c-onn!    j^rrown   men  to    ilream    dreams    in    broad    dayli.ijht.       Wise    men 
regard  facts.        Here   is  the   Admiral's  ship,  the  shapely  "Northampton,"  in   the  harl.our  df 


ini  c  iiADi  I.. 

In. Ill  II    M.  S.  •■  N..illMiii|ilnii.' 

(  )iii'l)cr.  Come  nil  ho.ni!, 
and  from  the  (]uarter-di  ^  k 
"'>.  take    a    view    of    the    .L;ranil    old    slorird    rcik 

\Vh..M'    mon.y    l.uiit    ih  it    \ast    Cita.lrl    that     crowns  its  sinnoih  >      Who    -ave   us    th-' 

mi-hty   Latteries  on   the    l-.'vis  h.'i,L,ht.  ..ppo->if  •-     What   en.'my  on   this  pl.in.l   r-.uld    t„l. 

f)uel,rr  as  Ion-    .1^   ihr   "Northampton"   plcd-vs  to   us    the    ...inmaiul   of    the    sea?       An. 

for    answ.  r.    a    eharmer    says,    you    would    be   far  stronger,   without    the   forts  an<l   uith.  u, 

the  "  Northam|)ton  I  " 


QL'EBEC:    HISTORICAL  AXD  DliSCRI PTnii 


8S 


HISTORICAL     AXD    ULSCRIPTIVH 


^3  >  %. 


\11\V     IKliM      I  Ml.     (Il.l)     MANOR     lldlSI,      \1      UlAtruKl. 

/  ^I'l'lMI'X"    -the  s|)()t  wlicic   tlic  most  rctuicd  riNili/ation  of    the  OV\  World  tirsl  touclicd 

^      tile   harliaric  v  ildiicss  of  the   NfW — is  also  the  s|)ot  where  the   lar<;est  share  of   the 

:   •  tures(iue  and    romantic    eleiniMit    has    leathered    round    the  outlines  of  a  i^rand    thouL^h 

i!i.i,'^('(l  nature.       It  wouKI  se<Mn  as  if   thos(!  early  heroes,  the  flower  of  France's  chivalry, 


S6  FRliXLll  CAXADIAX  LIFE  AM)   CUARACTHR 

who  conriucrL'tl  a  new  coiintrN-  from  a  savaij^c  climate  and  a  savai^c  race,  had  impressed 
the  featur(;s  of  their  iiationaht)-  on  this  rock  fortrt^ss  forever.  Ma\'  Quebec  always 
retain  its  hreiich  idiosyncrasy  I  The  shades  of  its  l)r<i\c  founders  claim  this  as  their 
ri>,du.  j-rom  Champlain  and  La\al  down  to  I  )e  Levis  and  Montcalm,  the\-  deserve  this 
monument  to  their  ('tlorts  to  build  \\\\  and  preserxc  a  "New  I'rance"  in  this  westt-'rn 
world  ;  and  Wolfe  for  ont;  would  not  ha\c  i^rud^'ed  that  the  memory  of  his  i^allant  foe 
shouUl  her(;  he;  closely  tMitwincHl  with  his  own.  .Ml  who  know  the  value  of  the 
min<;lin<;  of  diverse  ek;ments  in  enriching;  national  life,  will  rejoice  in  the  |)reservation 
am(jn<^  us  of  a  distinctly  l'"r»,'nch  element,  hlendinj;  harmoniously  in  our  Canadian 
nationality. 

".Sii\i)ri  ;mcl  Cflt  mikI   Norinaii   mix'  \vc  ;  " 

and  we  may  well  he  proud  of  having;  within  our  borders  a  "  Xew  I'rance"  as  well  as  a 
*'  (ireater   Britain." 

Imagination  could  hartlly  ha\-e  devised  a  nobler  portal  to  the  Dominion  than  the 
milt^-wide  strait,  on  one  side  of  which  rise  the  trreen  heiifhts  of  Levis,  anil  on  the  other 
the  bold,  abrupt  outlint.-s  of  Capt;  Diamond.  To  the  travelh-r  from  the  Old  Work!  who 
first  drops  anchor  under  those  dark  rocks  and  frownini;;  ramparts,  the  couff  iftril  must  ])re- 
sent  an  impressive  frontispiece  to  the  unread  volume.  Ihe  outlines  of  the  rock)-  rampart 
and  its  crownin^j^  fortress,  as  s(;en  from  a  tlistance,  recall  both  Stirling;-  antl  I'Lhrenbreitstein, 
while  its  aspect  as  viewed  from  tht;  foot  of  the  time-worn,  steep-roofed  old  houses  that 
skirt  the  heijj;ht,  carries  at  least  a  su_sj^jjjestion  of  Ldinburtjh  Castle  from  the  Cirassmarket. 
To  the  home-bred  Canadian,  comins.:^  from  the  Mat  r(!^-ions  of  Central  Canada  by  the 
train  that  skirts  the  southern  shore  and  sudilenly  funis  its  way  alon>.j  the  abrupt,  wooded 
heiLjhts  that  eml  in  Point  L<?vis,  with  (piaint  stee])-gabled  anil  balconieil  I'rench  houses 
climbinLj  the  rocky  ledt^es  to  the  ri<rht,  and  affordinj^  to  curious  passen^jers,  throui^di  open 
doors  and  wimlows,  man\  a  naive  j^dimpse  of  the  simple  domestic  lif"  of  the  liabitans. 
the  first  sii^rht  of  Ouebec  from  th(;  terminus  or  the  fe'rr\-  station  is  a  rcivc'lation.  It  is 
the  n.'alization  of  dim,  hovering-  visions  conjured  up  b\'  the  literature  of  other  huuls  more 
rich  in  the  picturescpie  element  l)orn  of  anticpiit)'  and  historical  association.  (  )n  ou" 
Re|)ublican  neighbours,  the  elfec-t  |»roduccd  is  the  same.  ( )i:ebec  has  no  more  enthusiasfu 
admirers  than  its  hosts  of  American  \isitors  ;  and  no  writers  haxc  mori'  vividly  and 
ap])reciati\ely  (.lescribed   its  peculiar  charm   than     I'arkman    and    Ilowells. 

Lookiniu;  at  ()uei)ec  tu'st  from  the  o|)|)osite  heii^hts  of  Levis,  and  then  passim.; 
slowl\  across  from  shore  to  shore,  the  striking;  features  of  the  tit\  and  its  sur- 
roundings come  i^raduall)  into  \  iew,  in  a  mannt-r  doubly  i-nchantiuj^  if  it  happens 
to  be  a  soft,  mist\-  summer  mornino.  .\t  lu'st,  the  dim,  huL^e  mass  of  the  rock 
and  Citadel, — seemingly  one  jj^rand  fortification,  —  absorbs  the  attention.  Then  th< 
details    come    out,    one    after    another.         The    firm    lines    of     ram[)art     and    bastion,    the 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAr.   A XI)   DESCRIPTH'E 


;htl\iii}^  oiitliiU'S  of  the  rock, 
)iiHrrin  1  crracc  with  its  li.i^lit 
laviliinis,  the  slope  of  Mountain 
nil,  the  Ciraml  I^atter\-,  the  eon- 
s|in  nous  pile  of  I,a\al  I 'ni\  ersitw 
the  (lark  serried  mass  of  houses 
1  liistcrini;  aU)!!^;'  the  foot  of  the 
in.ks  and  risinj^  Li^raihially  u|)  tlie 
'^fiiulcr  incline  into  which  these 
I. ill  away,  the  busy  quays,  the 
l.ir-  •  ii,issen<j;er  hoats  steam in<;  in 
aiiil  out  from  their  wh;u"\('s,  a 
iDipress  the  stranger  with  the 
inn  ,t  distinctive  aspects  of  Ouehec 
I'll' ire    lie    lanils. 

As  soon  as  he  has  landed,  he  is 
impressed  hy  other  features  of  its 
aiii  eiit  aiul  foreii^n  aspect.  The 
11.11  ow,  crooked  i.anes  that  tlo  duty 
f"i  streets,  tlu;  i;rimy,  weatluT- 
I"|  'U   walls  and    narrow  windows 


>"     ither   side,  the   sleep-roofed    antique    French   houses,  the  cork-screw  ascent    tovards 


88 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


the  upper  town,  the  rutrsJed  pavement  over  which  the  wheels  of  the  calc'chc  noisil)- 
rattle,  recall  the  peculiarities  of  an  old  I'rench  town.  Aiitl  hefort;  Prescott  Gate  wa> 
sacrificed  to  modern  utilitarian  demands,  tlu;  effect  was  intensifieil  by  the  novel  sen- 
sation— in  America — of  enterint^  a  walled  town  through  a  real  gate,  frowning  down 
as    from    a    media-val    story. 

The  short,  crooked  streets  of  Ouebcc,  diverging  at  all  kinds  of  angles,  make  ii 
as  difificult  to  find  one's  wa)'  as  in  \'enice  or  old  Hoston.  It  has  grown,  like  old 
towns,  instead  of  being  laid  out  like  new  ones,  and  its  peculiarities  of  growth  ha\c 
been  differentiated  to  a  remarkable  (.legree  1)\-  the  e.\igencit;s  of  its  site  and  fortifications. 
The  "lie"  of  the  place  can  be  best  explained  by  saying  thai  thi;  walls  embrace  a 
rudely-drawn  section  of  an  ellipse,  the  straight  sitlc  of  which  iliviiles  th(;  city  from 
the  comparatively  level  grountl  of  the  country  in  rear  (towards  tlu;  north-west),  while 
the  Citadel  occupies  the  western  corner  of  the  curve  which  follows  the  in\\:^i:  of  th(' 
precipice  abutting  on  the  St.  Lawn-ncc;,  turning  an  abrupt  corner  round  the  Seminarv 
(iardens,  and  following  tlu;  line  of  the  high  ground  till  it  descemls  to  the  valley 
of  the  St.  Charles.  It  was  on  ////.v  siilc  of  the  natural  fortress,  to  which  Quebec 
owes  its  anticpiity  and  its  pre-eminence  as  a  capital,  that  the  life  of  the  Old  Woild 
left  its  first  trace  on  tin;  history  of  tin-  CaiKulian  wilderness,  b'or  here,  a  little  way  up 
the  river  Jacques  Cartier  anchored  his  ships,  which  hatl  so  astoumleil  the  unsophisticated 
savag  ^;    they    came,    like    things    of    life;,   sailing    up    the    river.         Here,    too,    he    and 

his  men  spent  the  long,  bitter  winter,  waiting  wearily  for  the  slowly  -  coming  spriii<; 
which   so  many  of  them   never  saw. 

Hut  there  are  pleasanter  associations  with  the  sitle  of  (Juebec  which  the  visitor  usually 
sees  first.  As  we  walk  or  dri\-e  up  .Mountain  Hill  by  the  winding  ascent  which  originally 
existed  as  a  rough  gully,  tlu'  associations  are  all  of  Champlain,  the  Chevalier  Bayard 
of  the  French  /'<;>/;//(' and  the  foimder  of  Ouebec.  ()ne  cannot  but  wontler  whether  there 
rose  before  his  inner  vision  a  picture  of  the  city  which  he  may  have  hoped  would  grow 
from  the  oak  anil  walnut-shaded  plateau  by  the  river,  anil  up  the  sides  of  the  ruggid 
hill  that  now  bears  its  mass  of  anci(Mit  buiUlings,  climbing  to  the  zig-zaggeil  walls  ami 
bastions  that  crown  the  high(;st  point  of  what  was  then  a  bare  beetling  rock.  A:- 
he  watched  the  stately  trees  falling  under  the  strokes  of  his  sturdy  axe-men — where  I 
dingy  warehouses  and  high  t(Miements  are  now  denscdy  massed  together  under  the  cliti 
— hi-  may  have  dreamed  of  a  second  Kouen,  the  (pieenly  ca|)ital  of  a  "  New  I'rance,"  giving 
laws  to  a  territory  as  illimitable  as  the  wilderness  of  hill  and  forest  that  stretched  awayj 
on  every  side  beyond   the  range  of    eye  and   imagination. 

Hut  before  ascending  Mountain  Hill,  Id  us  turn  aside  into  the  little  Notre  Da^ntl 
Place,  where  stands  a  small  ipiaint  church  with  high-peaked  roof  and  anticpie  belfry,  (  ni  I 
of  the  oldest  buildings  in  Quebec,  for  its  walls  ilate  back  at  least  before  1690  when  the  t'  tt| 
of  Notre  Dame  des  X'ictoires  was  established  to  commemorate  the  defeat   of  Sir  Willi  iinl 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AXD   DESCRIPTIl'E  ^q 

riiipps.  It  was  close  to  this  spot  that  Chainplain  liiiilt  his  first  fort  and  warehouse  for 
siores  and  peltries.  A  little  farther  to  the  left — where  the  Chaniplain  Market,  i)uilt  out 
(i|  the  stones  of  the  old  l\'irliaiiient  huilding^s,  presents  on  market  days  a  busy  and 
picturesque  tableau — stootl  the  first  "  Abitation  de  Ouebecq,"  perpetuateil  for  us  by 
Chaniplain's  inartistic  pencil,  with  its  three  tall,  narrow  wooden  houses  set  close 
lojrether,  its  store-house  and  dovocote.  its  loop-holed  ijallery  running'  round  the  second 
^loreN'.  its  moat  and  surrounding-  wall.  Just  above  frowned  the  dark-brown  rock  ;  the 
blue  waters  of  the  St.  Lawrence  almost  washed  its  outer  wall  ;  while  the  j^ardens 
which  Chaniplain  delit^hted  to  lay  out  and  plant  with  roses,  lay  on  three  sides,  to 
j^race  the  wilderness  abode.  Now  there  are  nt)  gardens  and  no  roses, — only  a  bus\- 
market-place  that  blooms  out  periodically,  to  be  sure,  with  tlowers  ami  fruit  ;  masses 
of  buildinjrs,  narrow  streets  and  crowdeil  docks,  where  the  tides  of  the;  St.  Lawrence 
washed  the  shint^ly  beach  ;  huti^e  piles  of  wharves  drivint^  the  rive-r  still  farther 
to  bay  :  loaded  wains  carryini^  the  produce  of  tlu;  Old  World  from  the  threat  ocean 
vessels  or  tlu-  produce  of  the  Xew  World  to  them  ;  liyht  I'rench  la/a/us  dashing-  by 
the  primitive  carts  of  the  market-folk,  their  drivers  exchang-inj:^  gay  /Mt/Z/itn^'v  as  the\- 
pass  •  orrav'.'.  iong-robeil  priests,  or  jaunty  French  clerks  or  lads  in  the  Seminar)-  uniform 
hurraing  to  and  fro  and  replying  in  bVench  if  )-ou  ask  them  a  ([uestion  in  Lnglish  ;  — 
all  the  bus\-  life  of  a  comple.x  civilization,  combintxl  with  an  air  of  anti(juit\-  which 
makes  it  difficult  to  realize  that  even  three  centuries  ago  the  scene  was  one  unbroken 
wilderness. 

I'ursuing  Chamijlain  Street  a  little  farther,  the  lower  town  presents  not  a  few 
characteristic  studies.  A  quaint  old  street — "  Sous  Le  Cap " — lies  so  close  under  the 
precipice  surmounted  by  the  Grand  Battery  and  Laval  Unixersity  that  no  casual  passer- 
by- would  think  of  penetrating  its  obscurity.  Its  dilapidated  oKl  houses,  with  their  backs 
to  the  cliff,  are  braced  against  their  o|)posite  neighbours  b\-  cross-beams  of  timber 
to  keep  theni  upright,  and  e\-(Mi  the  narrow  I-'rench  carts  can  with  difficulty  pass 
through  what  looks  more  like;  a  -Scottish  wyiiil  than  a  Canadian  street ;  while  the  old  red- 
capped  habitant  who  sits  calmly  smoking  at  his  door  might  have  stepped  out  of  a  I*" reach 
pictun'.  If  we  pass  down  to  the  locks,  •. e  may  see  ocean  ve.ssels  preparing  for  departure, 
perhaps,  out  in  the  stream,  a  timber  ship  loading  her  cargo, — the  piles  of  fragrant  wood 
suggesting  the  distant  forests  where,  in  the  clear,  sharp  winter  days  the  men  from  the 
lumber  camp  were  busy  hewing  down  and  squaring  the  giant  pines,  the  growth  of  cen- 
turies of  summers. 

Hut  it  is  time  for  us  to  retrace  our  steps  from  this  region  of  shipping  and  docks 
AwA  piers,  of  warehouses  and  offices,  stretching  along  the  ledge  underneath  the  Citadel. 
We  may  follow  back  Chaniplain  Street  into  Little  Chaniplain  Street,  and  pass  on 
lo  the  foot  of  Break-neck  Steps,  a  shorter  and  more  tlirect  route  than  the  circui- 
tous   one    of    Mountain    Hill,    though    there    is    a    still    easier    mode    of    ascent    provided 


go 


/■R/-:\af c.Ly.wf.-i.y  i.irr.  .wn  character 


\w  tliL-  new  (k'vator,  which  transports  you  to  the  terrace  above  without  any  exertion. 
On  a  market  day,  the  steps  are  ahve  with  the  j^jood  folks  of  the  upjier  town 
troini^j  down   to  market  or  to  business;    and  the  liusy  scene  below — the  crowd  of    people 


sous    I.K  CM 


and    conveyances     in     the>    market-  _  __  _n^"i____— 

place,    with    the    old    houses    built  .^ 

close  aji^ainst  the  cliff,   tin;  back_i,M-ound  »)f  steamboats  and  shipping,  and   the   terrace  with 

its    lij^ht,  jrraceful    paijodas    ai^ainst    tht;    sk)    al)ove     affords  one    of    the    many   bits    of 

contrast  in   which   Quebec  abounds. 

A    few    minutes    brinj.^    us    to    the;    top    of     the     stairs    and     out    on     what     was    old 
Durham   Terrace,  which,  extendt.'d  at  the  suL,^ijjestion  of   Lonl   Hufferin    to  the   foot  of  the 


QUIIBEC.     HISTORICAL    .WD   ni-.SCRIPTn'R 


QI 


jlacis  of  the  Citadel,  has  ap- 
piopriatL'ly  takt-n  its  prcst'iit 
r  line  and,  sii[)pli(;d  with 
li^ht  pavilions  at  the  points 
( 'iinniandin^f  the  most  strik- 
iiii;  views,  now  bears  the 
name  of  th('  popular  (iov- 
t  inor  who  so  warmly  ap- 
prcciati^l  the  old  city.  It 
altords  one  of  the  noblest 
|iri)menades  that  a  city 
(diikl  possess,  from  the  majjf- 
iiiticent  view  it  commands  ; 
while  th«;  old  portion  which, 
as  Durham  Terrace,  perpetu- 
ated the  nam(;  of  one  of  the 
al)lest  British  (iovernors  of 
Canada,  is  also  the;  cjMitre  of 
the  most  romantic  and  heroic 
iiKinories  that  clust(?r  round 
Uuebec.  I'or,  close  b\\  in  the 
lime  of  Champlain,  was  built 
the  rude  stockaded  fort,  within 
which  he  and  his  men  were  fain 
In  i;ik(;  refuije  from  the  incur- 
-.lons  of  the  tierce  Irocpiois ; 
while  h<;re,  also,  rose;  th(!  old 
L  hatt-au  St.  Louis  which,  for 
two  centuries,  under  the  l-'lciir 
•I'  Lis  or  the  Union  jack,  was 
till-  centre  of  Canatlian  i^ovcrn- 
ni'iit  ami  the  heart  ami  core 
"!  Canadian  ch^fence  al,^linst 
i''H|uois.  British  or  American 
.iv.ailants.  The  Chatitau  of  St. 
I.'uis  -burned  down  at  last, 
ii  '  stones  helpiiv^r  to  build 
tills  broad  terrace— mii^dit  fur- 
II'  h  material  for  half  a  ilo/en 


I.OOKINO    rr    I  KOM    TMI-;    WHARVKS. 


FRI-XLJI  C.l.\\l/>/.l\   IJ/'J-    .l.\7>   CIlARACTIiR 


(JilUH'.C:    IlISTORJCAL    A.\n   DliSLRIPJ'Illi 


Q3 


loinanccs.  Lookinif  across  from  tlic  hiis\'  mass  of  s\varmin«f  life  IxjIow,  and  the  tlittin>> 
■<ti!amcrs  ami  stately  ships  with  which  the  ri\cr  is  snuUUd,  you  sec,  first,  tlic  picturcscjue 
hcij^hts  of  Lc\is,  on  which  rise,  tier  after  tier  trom  the  busy  town  ol  Soiitii  (Jiiehec 
.mil  tin;  Grand  Trunk  i)uiUlin,!Lis,  a  town  in  tlu'mselves,  —  villa_L,^e  after  villaj^e,  j^ditteriiiL;- 
Juircli  s|)ires,  massive  conventual  huildint's  •deamiii;'  out  of  emhosomiiV'  foliaee,  till 
the    eye    follows    the  curve   of    the  heijLjht    down    a^^ain   to    the    river.        Thence   it   follows 

still     the    lint'    of    the    lower    hilU    that    hound 
the    receiliii^    shores   oi    the  wiilenini^    expanse 
— the   boKl    outline,    looniin;;    |>erha[)s,    through 
ont!    of   the    fre(|uent    sea- mists,    of    the 
ricliK-wooded,    hamlet-sprinkleil    Isle    of 


\ 


CUSTOM    HOUSK. 

<  >rlt..'ans, — the  old  He  de   Bacchus, 

-then  northward,  across  the  soft  ijray  expanse  of  river,  with  its 
white  sails  or  dark  steam-craft,  to  the  hither  shore,  with  the  lis^ht 
mist  of  Montmorenc\-  on  the  distant  woods,  ami  the  ^raml  outlines 
<if    the    Laurentian    Hills    that   here    hrst    meet   the    ri\er  whose   name 

tliey  bear;  while  nearer  still,  the  (irecian  front  and  dome  of  tlu;  Custom  House,  the 
mass  of  Laval  University  and  the  lowers  and  steeples  of  the  upper  town  till  in  a  varied 
lon'jTround.  '\o  the  ri^ht,  the  terrace  stretches  awa\-  in  a  promenatle,  till  it  is  cut  short 
I'V  the  steep  sl;)pe  of  the  Citatiel  crownetl  1)\'  ram|)art  and  bastion,  while  Ix'hind  lie  the 
milady  walks  of  \\\(\  (lovernor's  Garden,  surroundin*^  the  pillar  iledicated  to  the  joint 
memory  of  Wolfe  and  Montcalm.  It  is  a  \iew  to  which  no  artist's  pencil  could  do 
uistice,   since    no    picture    could   give  it    in   its    completeness,  and    it  would   take    many  to 


94  FRENCH  CAXADIAX  UFl-:  AND   LIIARACTER 

fully  illustrate  its  ever-varyinjjj  aspect  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  or  when  the  moonlijfht 
enfolds  it  in  a  serener  and  more  solemn  beauty. 

One  mij^dit  dream  away  a  summer  day  or  a  summer  ni^ht  on  Duffcrin  Terrace; 
but  the  present  claims  attention  as  w(;ll  as  the  past.  Passing  to  the  rear,  you  can 
wander  throuj^h  the  shady  walks  of  tlu-  (iovernor's  (iarden  or  sit  on  lh(.'  iron 
seats  near  \.\\v.  "  Rin^,"  and  call  up  before  the  imaj^nnation  the  stirrinj^^,  martial 
scenes  so  often  enacted  on  the  (irandv  Phxcc  before  the  chateau.  There  the  rem- 
nant of  the  unfortunate  llurons  pitched  their  tents  aft(;r  the  butchery  of  thousanils 
of  their  number  by  the  Iroquois  on  the  Isle  of  Orleans,  and  there  they  were  allowed  to 
build  a  small  fort.  Thither,  too,  came  a  deputation  of  forty  Iroquois,  tattooed  and 
naked,  vociferating^  an  appeal  for  peace  to  the  Ouontliio  or  Governor,  in  the  summer  of 
1666,  when  the  j^allant  regiment  of  Carignan-Salieres  had  at  last  succeeded  in  instillini^r 
fear  into  their  savage  breasts.  Here,  also,  many  a  French  Governor,  as  the  represent- 
ative of  His  Most  Catholic  Majesty,  surrounded  by  a  bewigged  and  plumed  retinue. 
received  with  due  circumstance   the  keys  of  the  Castle  of  .St.    Louis. 

But  it  is  time  that  we  ascended  to  the  Citadel,  at  which  we  have  been  so  long 
looking  from  below.  A  flight  of  steps  takes  us  up  from  the  western  end  of  Dufferin 
Terrace  to  the  glacis.  Here  we  again  stop  to  look  down.  It  is  tlu;  view 
from  the  terrace,  expanded  in  every  direction.  At  our  feet  lies  the  busy  [)anorama 
of  river  and  docks ;  the  Grand  Trunk  ferr\-boat,  like  a  tiny  battcau,  is  stealing 
across  the  river  in  a  wide  curve,  to  avoiil  the  pressure  of  the  tiile.  On  the  other  side 
we  see  trains  arriving  and  departing.  ::teaming  along  the  rocky  ledge  of  the;  opposite- 
height  upward  towards  Montreal  or  downward  on  tlu;  way  to  the  sea.  Just  below  the 
Citadel  stretches  the  long  massive  dock  of  the  Allan  Steamship  Company,  at  which,  if  it  is 
Saturday  morning,  the  Liverpool  steamer  is  lying,  getting  ready  for  departure.  \'ans 
loaded  with  freight  or  luggage  are  discharging  their  contents  into  the;  hold.  Passengers 
are  stepping  on  board  to  take  possession  of  their  cabins,  accompanied  by  friends  rc^luctant 
to  say  the  final  adieu.  One  looks  with  a  strange  interest,  never  dulled  by  repetiti(jn. 
at  the  black  hull  about  to  bear  its  precious  frcMght  across  the  wide  ocean  to  "  the  undt.r 
world."  unwitting  of  the  p(!ril   it   is  going  to  brave. 

I'Vom  the  terrace  we  climb  b\-  a  flight  of  some  two  hundred  and  fift\-  steps  to 
the  top  of  the  glacis.  A  path  round  its  grassy  slope  leads  to  the  enlranc*.'  of  tin- 
Citadel  itself — ascending  from  St.  Louis  Street,  built  ujj  on  each  side  by  solid  stone 
walls.  Passing  through  the  celebrated  chain  gates,  we  find  ourselves  in  the  spacious 
area  made  by  the  widened  ditch  and  retiring  ba.uion,  the  level  sward  lK,-ing  used 
for  a  parade-ground.  On  the  green  sides  of  the  earthwork  above  the  ditch 
goats  are  peacefully  grazing,  giving  an  aspect  of  rural  trancjuillity  that  presents  a  pic- 
tures<:[ue  contrast  to  the  massive  portals  of  Dalhousie  (iate,  with  its  guard-rooms  built 
into    the    thickness    of    the    arch    on    either    side.       Entering    through   it,  we    are    at  last 


QCEIiKC:    IIISTORICAI.   AND  nESCRIPTIl'li  OS 

within    tlif    Cit;ul«?l    itself,  which,  sprcadiiij,'   over    forty  acrt-s    its    lahyrinth    of   ditch  and 

earthwork    and    rampart    an<l    bastion,    impresses    us    at    once    with     the    appropriateness 

of   its  proud  tith;   of   the  Canadian  (iibraltar.     Ascendinif  to  the    broad   gravel    walk    on 

the  top  of  tlu-  Ijaslion,   we  retrace  our  steps  toward  the  river  by  the  parallel  line  of  wall 

on  the  inner  side  of  tht;  ilitch,   pierced   with    iMiibrasures    for    the    cannon    that    commaml 

t\cr\    avenu(;    of   approach.        Passing;     on,     we     take     in    jrljuipses    of    tlu;    ever-)j;lorious 

\i(W  which    bursts  u|)on   us  at  last  in  all   its    maj^MiillciMice,  as    we    stand    on    the    l\inj,f's 

Bastion    beside;    the    llat^-staff, — a  view   which,   take    it    all    in    all,   it    is    not    too    much    to 

say     is    unsurpassed    in     North    America.       Quebec  —  with     its    quaint    contrasts    of    old 

and  new—lii's  at  our  feet,   the    frinj^c    of    buildini^s    and    wharves  at    the    foot    of    Cape 

Diamond  literally  so,  the  remainder  of  the  city  clusteriniLj  about  and  up  tiie    heij^dit,   like 

Athens    about    her  Acropolis.       Across    the    river.   stucUled    with    craft    of   all    imaj^dnabU.' 

variety — from    the     huj^e     primitive     raft     that     hardly     st^ems    to    move,    to    the    swift. 

arrowy  steam-tug  or    the  stately  ocean-ship    that    spreails    her    sails    to    catch    th(!    breeze 

the  eye  ascends    the    heights  of   i-evis,   beyond    the  masses  of    railway  buildings  to  the 

undulating    curv(,'s    in  which    nt^stle  the  clusters    of    tiny    I'Vench   houses,   with   their   great 

protecting  churches  ;    th(.'n   it  follows    the    widening    river,  stuilded    with  sails,   to  the  dim 

blue    woods    and    tlistant    hamlets    of    Orleans;     on,    still,    to    the     bold    mountains    that 

form  s<j  grand  a  background  to  the  cultivated  slopes  which  descend    to  the  long    village 

street    of    the   Beauport    road,  with    its    church    towers    guiding    the    eye    to    the    Mont- 

inorcMicy  cleft    or   cniboncluirc,  in    which,  on   a  very  clear   day,  you    can    just    discern    tlu; 

f.iint    white    spray    ascending    from    the    ball  ,    and    farther    on,   to    Cap    Tourmente    and 

the    blue    mountain  of    St.   Anne.       Nearer,   the    glance    returning    takes    in    the    winding 

St.    Charles,    the    outlying    suburbs    of    St.    John    and    St.    Roch    and    .St.    Sauveur,    the 

(rooked    line    of     the    city    wall,    the    green    turf    and    poplars    of    the     Ksplanade,    the 

shady    grounds    and     Officers'    Quarters    of    the     Artillery     Marracks,    the     Hotel     Dieu. 

Laval     University    with    its    belfry,    the    towers    of    the     Basilica,    tlu;    (jothic    turrets    of 

the    l"!nglish  Cathedral  ,    while;,  just  below,  we   have  a  binl's-eye  view  of  Dufferin   Terrace 

aiul  its  pavilions;  of  the  (iovernor's  Garden,  with  the  top  of   Montcalm's  nu)nument  rising 

above  the  trees;    of  the  line  of  Champlain  Street  and  Champlain   Market,  and    the    rows 

iif   tall   French  houses  that  rise;  up  against  the  dark,  slaty  cliff,  with  its    fringe  and  tufts 

(if  scanty  vegetation  ;    of    tlu;  line  of  wharves  and  docks,  steamboats  and    steamships,   till 

tli<'    ri(;ld    of    view     is    sudd(;nly    curtailed    by    tlu-    abutments  of    tlu;    cliff    on    which    we 

.itaiul 

Hut  there  are  other  points  of  view,  so  we  pass  on  along  the  entrance  front  of  the 
( >tlicers'  Quarters,  a  portion  of  which  is  set  apart  for  the  summer  residence  of  the 
("•\(;rnor-General.  It  is  not  a  \ery  imposing  vice-regal  abode,  but  the  simplicity  of 
'li'  accommodation  and  the  restricted  space  are  more  than  atoned  for  by  the  noble 
vi.tas  of  river  and  height  and  mountain  commanded  by  the  deeply-embrasured  windows. 


I 


96 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


In  a  line  with  the  Officers'  Quarters  are  the  hospital,  the  magazines  and  the  Observ- 
atory, where  the  falling  black  ball  gives  the  time  daily,  at  one  o'clock,  to  the  shipping 
below.  Outside  the  Governor-General's  Quarters,  and  extending  towards  the  King's 
Bastion,  a  platform  has  been  erected  which,  on  summer  fete-nights,  serves  as  a  prome- 
nade unique  and  wonderful,  from  which  "  fair  women  and  brave  men  "  look  down 
five  hundred  feet  into  the  dark  abyss   below,   sparkling    with   myriads  of  lights  gleaming 

from      city,     height 
"~r?^:7^'^       and  river. 

At  the  Prince's 
Bastion,  on  the 
western  angle  of  the 
fortress,  where  the 
"  Prince's  Feather. " 
carved  in  stone, 
commemorates     the 


f 


.■X 


K 


"■X^^- 


'■II,. .1      --  ■  •**"•■-..  -V  - 


visit  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  tlic 
view  is  still  more  extensive.  West- 
ward, we  look  up  the  ri\er,  to  the 
green  bluff  curving  into  Wolfe's 
Cove  and  Sillery,  while  across  we 
still  have  before  us  the  varied  line 
of  the  opposite  heights,  with  their 
long    street    of    old     I'Vench     houses 

creeping    just    under    its    wooded    sides,    antl    a    little    farther    to    the     right    you     catcii 
the    gleam    of    the    steeples    of     New     Liverpool. 

After  the  eye  has  been   partially  satisfied  with  gazing   on   this  grand    panorama,  wo 
may   stroll    leisurely  along    the    wall,   taking    in   the  ever -shifting  views  from  the  variois 


^ 

\ 


*^   ..     '■'•'FiCI.I,./ 


\ 

QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


97 


VIEW    l-KOM    Till'.    CITADEL. 

points,   and   dhscrvinsr   the    niassi\-eness 
of   tlie    bastions    and    earthworks,    thai    witli    many 
a  bewildering,^    '^'.U^zacr,  encompass    the    central    forti- 
fication.      As    we    pass    hack    throuo;h    the    chain   ^ates, 
let    us     stop    to     look     into     the     casemates,    or     rooms 
built  in  the  interior  of   the  massixc  earthwork.      One  catches 
a  !.^limpse,   throuo;h  the    inter\(Miinij^    darknc^ss,     of    a    lighted     in-  ■ 

terior,  remindinLT  us  of  a  Dutch  picture,  throwinn'  a  bit  of 
domestic  life  into  strong  liorht  and  shade.  Here  are  rooms  where  the 
soldiers  and  their  families  reside,  the  solid  earthwork  above  and  around 
them,  deej)  windows  lettinpr  in  the  light  and  air.  Before  leaving  the  precincts 
ot  the  Citadel,  take  a  look  at  the  rock  on  which  it  is  built— an  uneven,  circular 
surface  of  light  gray  rock  bearing  the  sonbn'guci  of  "Hog's  Hack."  No  I'Vench  or 
ancient  associations  attach  to  the  Citadel,  except  to  one  magazine  near  the  Prince's 
i^astion,  the  inner  portion  of  which  seems  to  belong  to  the  hVench.  ri%n>nc,  being 
I)uilt  of  rubble,  the  outer  casing  only  being  modern.  The  plans  fot  the  present 
Citadel  were  supervised  by  the  Iron  Duke,  though  he  never  saw  the  place.  The  chain 
gates   let  us  out  into  a    sort  of   extension    of    the  ditch,    from  which  we  emerge   by  the 


/ 


98 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


MONUMENT    TO    WOLI'E    AND    MONTCALM. 


sally-port.      From    thence,  a  path  leads  over   the  broken   ground 
of    the    "  I'lains "    to    the    ball-cartridge    field.      As    we    pass    we 
shall  not  fail  to  note  the  broken  grassy  curves  and  mounds  that 
preserve  the    outlines  of  the  old   I'Vench   earthworks — the    prede- 
cessors of  the  present  fortifications, — a  prom- 
inent   and      interesting     object.       Approach- 
ing   the     Martello     tower    we    are     obliged 
to    go    out    on    the    St.    Louis    road,   or    the 
Ckeniin  dc  la   Grande  Alice,  as  it  was  called 
in    the  old    French    period.       Following   this 
still    westward,   a    turn    to    the    left,   between 
the   turnpike   and    the    race-course,    takes  us 
down    to  some  barren  and  neglected-looking 
ground  on  which  stands  Wolfe's  monument, 
and   a   little    farther  on,  a  road  leads  down- 
wards   to    the    Cove     where    Wolfe    landed 
his     troops     the    night     before     the     battle, 
when    even     Montcalm    at    first    refused    to 
attach    importance    to  what  he   thought  was 

"only   Mr.    Wolfe,    with  a  small   party,   come   to  burn    a   few    houses,    and    return."      A 

road  now  winds  down  the  face 
of  the  cliff  among  the  strag- 
gling pines  where,  in  Wolfe's 
time,  there  was  only  a  rough 
gully  up  which  he  and  his  sol- 
diers scrambled,  dragging  with 
them  a  six  -  pounder  —  their  only 
gun — which  played  no  mean 
part  in  gaining  the  victory. 
Now  the  quiet  bay,  with  its 
rafts  and  lumber-piles  and  pass- 
ing craft,  is  peaceful  enough, 
and  in  the  soft  purple  light 
of  a  summer  evening,  seems 
to  harmonize  less  with  martial 
memories  than  with  the  asso- 
ciation with  Gray's  Elegy  be- 
cpieathed  to  It  by  Wolfe,  who, 
TIME-BALL,  KROM  THE  I'KLNCES  BASTION.  on  the  night  before   tho    decisive 


V 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


99 


WOLFE'S    COVE. 


too  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

action,  repeated  here,  with  perliaps  some  sad  presentiment  of  impending  fate,  the 
stanza — 

"  The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave, 
Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour — 
The  paths  of  j^lory  lead  but  to  the  grave  !  " 

Retracing  our  steps  to  the  St.  Louis  road,  we  follow  it  straight  back  to  the  city, 
noting  the  fine  new  pile  of  buildings  erected  for  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  just  beyond 
which  we  pass  through  one  of  the  old  gates  of  Quebec,  the  St.  Louis  Gate,  now 
massively  rebuilt  with  embrasures  and  Norman  towers — one  of  the  three  still  to  be 
preserved    to    the    city.  But     it    is    not    the    old    St.    Louis    Gate,    with    its     weather- 

beaten  superstructure  and  zigzag  approach.  When  the  excessive  newness  has  somewhat 
worn  off,  it  will  doubtless  be  much  more  imposing  than  its  predecessor,  and  more  fitted, 
like  its  neighbour,  Kent  Gate,  built  at  her  Majesty's  expense,  to  hold  up  its  head  in 
a    progressive    age,  which    does    not    appreciate    dilapidation,   however    picturesque. 

Passing  through  St.  Louis  Gate,  with  its  new  Norman  turrets,  we  have  to  our  right  the 
winding  ascent  to  the  Citadel  and  to  our  left  the  Ksplanade  ;  while  at  the  corner  of  the 
St.  Louis  Hotel  we  are  again  in  the  business  centre  of  the  uiper  town,  and  soon  come 
to  the  open  area  of  the  Place  d'Armes,  whence  we  pass  into  Buade  Street,  on  which 
stands  the  new  Post-Office,  a  handsome  building  of  gray  cut-stone,  plain  but  in  good  taste, 
with  two  short  Ionic  pillars  at  the  entrance.  The  old  Post-Office  which  preceded  it  had 
a  history,  symbolized  by  a  French  inscription  under  the  sign  of  the  Chien  d'Or,  or 
Golden  Dog,  which  legendarj-  animal  still  retains  his  post  over  the  entrance  of  the  present 
building.  This  inscription  was  the  expression  of  the  wrongs  suffered  by  the  original 
owner — a  merchant  named  Philibert — at  the  hands  of  the  Intendant  Bigot  of  unsavoury 
memory.      It  ran,   in   old   French — 

"JE   SUIS   VN    CHlF.N   QVI    RONGE   l/OS, 

En    I.Ii    PONGEANT   JE   PREN'DS    MON    REPOS, 

Vn  te.ms  vieniira  (jvi  n'kst    pas  VENV 
qve  je  mordrav  yvi  mavra  mdrdv." 

The  legend  may  be  freely  translated,  "  I  bide  »iv  time."  Poor  Philibert  was  never  able 
to  put  his  threat  into  execution,  his  life  and  his  plans  for  revenge  being  suddenly  brought 
to  an  end  one  day  on  Mountain  Hill,  by  a  sword-thrust  from  a  French  officer,  no  doubt 
at  the  Intendant's  instigation.  The  story  had  a  sequel,  however.  Philibert's  brother, 
who  came  all  the  way  from  Bordeaux  as  his  executor  ami  blood-avenger,  tracked  the 
assassin  to  his  refuge  in  the  I^ast  Indies,  and  slew  him  there.  Champlain's  bust, 
and  the  symbolic  dog  over  the  entrance,  with  the  sign  of  "The  Golden  Dog"  on  an 
inn    close    by,    connect    the    new    Post-Offic;    with    the    memories   of   old    Quebec,    whilr 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTirE 


lOI 


the  name  of  one  of  the  streets  at  the  corner  of  which  it  stands — Buade  Street — recalls 
the  palmiest  days  of  the  I-'rench  ;v;>/w<-.  under  Louis  Buade.  Count  de  Frontenac.  From 
here  Mountain  Hill  begins  its  circuitous  descent,  and  on  the  opposite  side  is  the  old- 
fashioned-building,  originally  the  Archbishop's  Palace,  which  has  been  used  for  many 
vears  as  the   Parliament   Buildings. 

Going  down   Mountain   Hill  from  hence,  we    come    to    the    dilapidated  stairway,    the 
anticjue,    gambrel-roofed     buildings     beside 
it  being  very  characteristic   of  the  old  city. 
Hut    we    will     not    descend     to    the    lower 
town,    but    walk     back    up     Buade     Street 
till  we  come   to    what,   until    re- 
cently, was  the  market-place    of 
the  upper  town,  now  trans- 
ferred, however,  to  the  open 
space  in  front  of  St.  John's 
Gate.       On  one  side  of 
the   wide,    open    square, 


KKNT    GATE. 

Cathedral  is  called,  linked  with  some 


stands    the    Basilica,    as    the    French 


Sr.    JOHN'S    (.AlK, 


I 


of  the  oldest  memories  of  the  settlement 
of  Quebec.  It  hardU-  looks  its  age.  and 
is  not  by  any  means  so  imposing  as  Xotre 
Dame,  of  Montreal.  It  was  begun  b\'  Bishop 
Laval  in  1647.  and  was  consecrated  in  1666, 
under  the  name  of  the  Church  of  the  Im- 
maculate Conception.  Its  massive  fafadc,  with  its  tower  on  one  side  and  its  tall  spire 
nil  the  other,  gives  an  impression  of  a  rare  solidity  within,  and  \\\v.  loft}'  arches  of  the 
nave  would  have  a  fine  effect,  if  it  were  not  finished  in  a  cold  ami  tlead  florid  Renais- 
sance style,  which  looks  quite  out  of  keeping  with  the  homely  anticpiity  of  the  "gray 
laily  of  the  North."  But  the  main  charm  of  the  buikling  lies  in  its  long  association 
with    the  religious    life  of    I'rench-Canada,    from  the  days  of    Le  Jeune    an.i    De  Jogues, 


I02 


FR/iXa/  C.L\\l/)/.lX  Ur/:    ANf)    CIIARACTF.R 


Madame  ik'  la   Pcltric   and   INIaric    (\v    1' Incarnation.      Within    tlic'si!    walls    many  an    w^o- 

nizfd  \o\v  and   prayer  has  i^onc   up   from    the    early   mart\  rs  and   heroes   ol    the   Canadian 

Mission    for    the    conversion    of    lliiron   and    Irocpiois,  and    for  safet\    from   the   murilerou. 

attacks  of  their  saxas^e  foes.      Here,  too,  have  echoetl   the    Te    l)eiims  of  a  j;rat('ful  colon\, 

in  the  joy  of  some  sitjjnal  delive'rance  or  decisixc  \  ictory.       1  he 

somewhat  i^audy  decoration   of  tlu;  present   interior  seems  to 

fade  away  as  we  yo  back,  in  thou}i;ht,  to  tlu;  days  when   the 

bare    rafters   over-arched    the    self-exiled    worshippers    whose 

neeils  and  enthusiasm  minified  in   pra\t'rs  of  pathetic  earnt'st- 

ness    to     llim     in    whose    cross    and    sufferinjrs    the\-   deemed 

themseKes  sharers. 

It   is  a  natural  transition   from  the  Basilica  to  the  .Semi- 
nar)', and  a  few  steps  lead  throuj^h  the  massive  open  iron  gates 
of   Laval  University,  alon«;-  the  narrow  passage  that  brings 
us  to  the  door  of  the  .Seminary  chapel.     This  chapel  is  over 
a  hundretl  years  oUl,  Mr.  Le  Moine  tells  us,   and   its  chief 
historic  association   is  that  of  having  served  as  a  militar)- 


ST.     LOLIS     (iAII 


QUE n EC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


\o' 


attaci' 


ican  officers 
of  war  in 
AnidKl  and 
Monti^onicry.  I^iit  the 
Seminary  was  foundc-tl  by 
Bishop  Laval  in  1663,  al)out  the  time  that  the  Basilica  was  completed.  Laval  l'ni\ersity 
is  a  secular  oft-shoot  of  the  Seminary  [)roper,  which  was  founded  for  theoloi^ical  eilucation 
(inly, — this  beino;^  still  the  object  of  the  Cirami  Sciiiiua/rc.  The  buildings  of  the  Semi- 
nary enclose  the  site  of  the  first  house  built  by  the  first  brench  settler  Hebert,  and  its 
i^arden,  with  the  neighbouring  streets,  occupies  the  land  first  cleared  for  agricultural  pur- 
poses. The  University  building,  with  its  spacious  new  wings,  extends  to  the  ver\-  vxX^^n 
of  the  promontory,  and  from  its  tower  another  view  can  be  obtained  of  the  city  and  its 
surroundings. 

There  is  not  much  to  see  in  the   University  itself,  so  we  pass  out  again  and  retrace 
our  steps    to  the   Little   Market    Scjuare  in  front  of    the  Basilica,    where  stands  the    long 


104 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER 


row  of  caltichcs  whose  drivers,  French  and  Irish,  have  a  keen  eye  for  any  passer-by 
who  seems  to  wear  the  tourist's  air  of  observation.  Just  opposite  the  Cathedral  stood 
until  recently  the  large  pile  of  the  Jesuit  Barracks — originally  the  Jesuit  College — 
with  its  yellow,  stuccoed  front  and  grated  windows,  and  a  high  portal  with  the  time- 
worn  letters  "  I.  H.  S."  still 
visible  as  the  mark  of  its 
early    owners. 

Turning  back  we  pass  down 
St.  l-'amille  Street,  which  ex- 
tends along  the  eastern  side 
of  the  Seminary  Gardens 
ami  leads  to  the  opening  in 
the  wall  where  but  recently 
stood  Hope  Gate.  Vxom 
this  point  there  used  to  be  a 
continuous  promenade  round 
the  ramparts,  which,  when 
the  present  work  of  pulling 
down  and  rebuilding  is  com- 
pleted, will  again  exist  in  a 
greatly  improved  state,  in 
fulfilment  of  one  of  Lord 
Dufferin's  plans  for  the 
adornment  of  Quebec.  Hut 
now  we  will  retrace  our 
steps  to  the  Cathedral 
Square,  and  crossing  it  at 
its  upper  end,  pass  in  front 
of  the  English  Cathedral, 
a  sombre-looking  building, 
with  a  substantial  turret, 
standing  within  an  old-fash- 
ioned, shady  enclosure.  A  little  farther  on  we  come  to  a  gray,  ecclesiastical-looking 
cluster  of  buildings  around  a  small  green  "close,"  consisting  of  the  old  Scottish  church, 
dating  from  1810,  with  its  substantial  manse  and  school-house.  The  group  seems  to 
belong  to  a  Scottish  landscape  as  naturally  as  the  greater  part  of  Quebec  does  to  a 
French  one. 

Just  opposite  the  church  stands  what  was  the  old  gaol,  associated    with    some   grim 
memories  of    the  days   of   political    imprisonments,  now,  through    the   generosity   of   Dr. 


LOOKING    ACROSS    THE    ESPLANADE    TO    BEAUPORT. 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE  105 

Morrin,  one  of  Quebec's  old  citizens,  converted  into  a  Presbyterian  College,  a  part  of  it 
being  devoted  to  the  rooms  of  the  Literary  and   Historical  Society. 

Passing  along  St.  Ursule  Street,  we  come  back  to  St.  Louis  Street,  and,  turning 
the  corner  of  the  long  range  of  massive  gray  stone  convent  buildings,  we  reach  the  entrance 
to  the  chapel,  at  the  end  of  Parloir  Street.  The  Ursuline  Convent  and  gardens  occupy 
no  small  portion  of  the  space  within  the  walls,  and  they  deserve  it  by  a  well-earned 
right.  The  chapel  of  the  convent  has  various  interesting  reminiscences  and  associations, 
religious  and  artistic,  and  martial  as  well.  One  interesting  and  suggestive  object  is  a 
votive  lamp,  lighted  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  by  two  French  officers,  on  their 
sisters  taking  the  veil,  and  kept  burning  ever  since,  except  for  a  short  time  during  the 
siege  of  1 759.  There  are  paintings  sent  from  France  at  the  Revolution — one  said  to  be 
by  Vandyke  and  one  by  Champagna — and  wood  carvings,  the  work  of  the  first  Canadian 
School  of  Art,  at  St.  Ann's,  early  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Montcalm,  taken  thither 
to  die,  was  buried  within  the  convent  precincts  in  a  grave  dug  for  him  by  a  bursting 
shell ;    and  his  skull,  carefulh'  preserved,  is  still  shown  to  visitors  to  the  chapel. 

From  the  Ursuline  Convent  a  short  walk  brings  us  back  to  the  Esplanade,  between 
the  St.  Louis  and  Kent  Gates.  Turning  into  its  quiet  area,  faced  by  a  row  of  rather 
sombre-looking  private  residences,  we  ascend  the  slope  to  the  walk  that  runs  along  the 
line  of  wall.  Looking  cit)-ward,  from  one  point  in  our  promenade  we  take  in  the 
idyllic  view  of  the  tranquil  Esplanade,  with  its  poplars  and  disused  guns,  the  ancient 
little  Jesuit  church  and  the  old  National  school  immediately  in  front :  while  across 
the  ramparts  and  the  abrupt  descent  beyond,  we  catch  the  blue  strip  of  ri\er  between 
us  and  Beauport,  with  white  sails  skimming  across,  and  the  white  houses  scattered 
along  the  green  slopes  opposite,  that  end  again  in  a  grand  mountain  wall.  Proceeding 
on  from  the  Esplanade,  we  walk  across  the  top  of  Kent  Gate  and  then  follow  the  line  of 
the  ramparts  to  the  massive  arched  portal  of  St.  John's  Gate,  whence  we  look  down 
on  the  busy  Montcalm  Market  immediately  below,  with  its  primitive  French  market- 
carts  and  good-humoured  French  market-women,  who  will  sell  you  a  whole  handful 
of  bouquets  for  a  few  cents.  We  have  to  leave  the  ramparts  soon  after  passing 
St.  John's  Gate,  the  promenade,  which  will  be  continuous,  not  being  yet  finished. 

Taking  our  way  back,  we  return  to  the  square,  and  engage  one  of  the  eager  calcchc- 
drivers  to  take  us  out  to  Montmorency  Falls,  a  nine-mile  drive.  Ascending  to  the 
high-perched  seat  in  the  little  two-wheeled  vehicle,  we  are  soon  rattling  over  the  not 
very  smooth  thoroughfare  of  the  St.  John  suburbs,  among  modern  and  uninteresting 
streets — for  these  suburbs  have  been  again  and  again  laid  waste  by  fire.  We  pass 
near  the  ruins  of  the  old  Intendant's  Palace,  and  are  soon  on  Dorchester  Bridge,  the 
gray  rock  of  the  city  rising  behind  us,  the  valley  of  the  St.  Charles  winding  away  to 
the  north-west.  "  There,"  our  driver  will  say,  looking  up  at  the  river  where  the  tide 
is   rising  among   some   ship-yards,    "is  where  Jacques    Cartier   laid  up  his  ships."      Near 


io6  FREXCH  CAiXADIAX  LIFIi  AND   CHARACTER 

that  point,  also,  Montcalm's  hruli^e  of  boats  crossed  tlic  rixcr,  in  1 75Q,  and  in  a  lariujc 
entrenchnicnt,  where  once  stood  the  Jesuit  Mission  1  louse,  the  remnants  ol  his  scattered 
army  rallied  after  th(;  battle  of  the  "  Plains."  l-",\en  the  ^vc/^vV/r-d rivers  arc;  anti(iuarian 
and  historical  in  Ouebec,  antl  take  pride  in  actins;-  the  part  of  cicerone  to  the  venerable 
associations  of  the  place. 

The  memory  of  Montcalm  is  associated  with  many  points  alonj^  the  pleasant  road 
that  leatls  thronL,di  lont^^-stretchinii;-  P'rench  villaL,'^es,  between  the  tureen  meadows  that 
slope  u|)  to  the  hills  on  the  one  sitle  and  down  to  the  St.  Lawrence  on  the  other. 
The  burnin;;-  sun  of  our  Canadian  summer,  softened  here  1)_\-  the  frecpieiit  mists  and  fot^^s 
from  the  sea,  tloes  not  parch  the  verdure,  as  it  too  often  does  in  regions  farther  in- 
land. The  velvety  _L,^reen  of  the  low-l\inir  meadows,  dotleil  and  frinj^H-il  with  ij^raceful 
elms  and  bcx'ch  and  maple,  would  do  no  discredit  to  the  Mmeraltl  Isle  ;  and  if  the 
villas  and  fiidds  were  surrounded  b\'  hedij^es  instead  of  fences,  the  landscape  mioht  easily 
be  taken  for  an  English  one.  About  three  miles  below  (Juebec  we  pass  the  Heaupori 
As)lum.  a  fme,  substantial  buildin^^,  with  a  jj^-ood  deal  of  ornamental  statuary  and  other 
decoration  in  front,  in  which  a  lary^e  number  of  lunatics  are  cared  for  uiuler  (iovern- 
ment  supervision.  Ilert;  antl  there  other  residences  and  s^rounds  attract  the  eye.  Tin- 
most  notable  in  l)\e-L,^one  times  was  the  manor-house  of  old  Heauport,  recentK'  destroyed 
bv  tire,  and  occupied  in  1759  by  Montcalm  as  his  head-quarters.  .\n  old  leaden  plate 
was  lately  fountl  in  the  ruins,  bearing  an  inscription,  interesting  to  antitpiarians.  The 
date  of  its  hrst  erection,  as  given  in  the  plate,  proves  the  ruined  mansion  to  have 
been  older  than  any  e.xisting  in  Canada  to-day,  since  it  preceded  by  three  \ears 
that  of  the  Jesuits'  residence  at  Sillery.  Robert  (jiffart,  physician  antl  founder  of  the 
Seigniory,  figures  in  a  curious  old  story  told  b)-  the  Abbe  b'erland,  of  the  enforced 
penitence  and  submission  of  a  rebellious  vassal — Jean  Cuion,  or  1  )iop — a  letteretl  stone- 
mason, who  thought  fit  to  refuse  the  homage  he  owed  to  ( Jiffart,  his  feudal  lord.  'I  he 
vicinity  of  the  ruined  chateau  bearing  such  interesting  associations,  is  called  La 
Canardiirc,  preserving,  in  this  cognomen,  a  reminiscence  of  the  time  when  this  Cdffart,  a 
keen  sportsman,  was  wont  to  bag  wild  duck  in  large  nundx-rs  along  the  marshy  bank  of 
the  stream,   the   "'Ruisscaii  dc  rOnrs"  on  which  he   erected   his  rude  stockaded    mansion. 

One  or  two  other  chateaux  are  still  inhabited  by  the  representatives  of  the  I'Vench 
families  of  the  Old  Regime.  By  degrees  the  scattered  mansions,  in  their  settings  of 
green  turf  and  foliage  merge  into  the  long  lines  of  Heauport  village,  its  neat,  quaint 
houses,  generally  of  substantial  stone,  steep  -  roofed  and  dormer-windowed,  and  often 
completed  with  the  little  balcony  ;  some  of  them  old  and  weather-worn,  others  spick  and 
span  in  gay  new  paint,  and  most  of  them  bright  with  a  profusion  of  flowers  in  a  little 
plot  before  the  door  or  in  the  windows.  Behind  each  little  house  is  its  riband-like 
strip  of  ground  seemingly  narrowed  down  to  the  smallest  space  within  which  a 
horse  could  turn  ;  and  here  and  there  may  be  seen  a  man  at  work  with  the  primitive  cart 


QUEIiliC:    HISTORICAL   AND  DESCRIPTIIE 


107 


and  sinji[le  horsL-  all  his  little  farm  will  sii|)|)()rt  which 
( arri(!S  to  market  the  vejj[(;tal)les  that  are  his  chief  de- 
|ienclence.  Altoi;^ether,  the  lii^dit-hearted,  open-air  lift;  of 
the  simple  folk  carries  a  pleasant  suj^^jj^estion  of  that 
so  vividly  sketched  in  "  Kvanj^eline "  and  of  "/a  belle 
Xoniiandie,"  without  its  CJothic  churches 


WAVSIDK     CROSS,    AND    HKAl'TOKT 
CULRCH. 

and  its  peculiar  costume.  The 
massive  stone  huiUlint;  that  lifts 
its  (rleamintr,  protecting;  spires 
hi.;xh  above  the  humble  dwellinjrs 
at  its  feet,  is  of  no  old  Norman 
type,  but  a  plain,  strai<.,dit for- 
ward substantial  structure,  of  the  same  model  on  which  the  French-Canadian  churches 
are  generally  built.  It  looks  large  enough  to  contain  the  whole  population  of  a 
village  seven  or    eight  miles  long,   and  doubtless  on  fete-days  it  does    so. 

Much  more  quaint  and  [jicturesque    are  the   tiny  wayside  chapels  and   crosses  which 
we  occasionally  pass — the  former  sometimes  relics    of    the    days    when    the    long    village 


io8  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

was  a  hamlet,  and  glad  to  have  a  chapel  of  the  smallest,  of  its  very  own  ;  while  the 
wayside  cross,  close  by,  with  its  sacred  symbol  of  suffering  casting  its  pathetic  shadow 
on  the  life  and  brightness  around,  would  be  quite  in  place  in  a  landscape  of  France  or 
of  Southern  Germany. 

At  last  the  village  of  Beauport  is  left  behind,  and  we  skirt  an  open  stretch  of 
field  and  woodland  on  either  side.  Towards  the  St.  Lawrence,  which  lies  broad  and 
blue  between  us  and  the  richly-wooded  Isle  of  Orleans,  is  seen  a  white  mansion  on  a 
commanding  point,  just  above  the  Montmorency  Falls,  which  was  once  occupied  by 
the  Duke  o\  Kent.  Beyond  the  river  and  the  Isle  of  Orleans  the  low  blue  hills 
appear,  while  before  us  to  the  left  rise  the  noble  outlines  of  the  Laurentians,  flecketl 
with  passing  gleams  of  soft  light  and  violet  shadow.  If  we  choose  to  alight, 
and  walk  a  mile  or  so  across  the  fields  to  our  left,  we  come  to  the  "  Natural 
Steps,"  a  succession  of  rocky  ledges,  exactly  like  steps  cut  in  the  rock,  between 
which  the  narrow  river  sweeps  silently  on,  fringed  by  a  fragrant  wood  of  low  spruce 
and  hemlock,  soon  to  brawl  and  foam  over  the  brown-gray  rocks  in  tiny  cascades, 
before  its  final  plunge.  Returning  again  to  the  road,  and  driving  on,  we  come  to 
the  wooden  bridge  across  the  river,  where  it  dashes  itself  over  its  rocky  bed,  whicli 
the  ndvancing  summer  leaves  half  uncovered  and  dry.  Crossing  the  bridge,  we  drive 
some  few  hundred  yards  to  the  little  country  inn,  where  carriages  put  up  to  await  the 
return  of  their  passengers,  who  must  go  the  rest  of  the  way  on  foot.  A  little 
farther  on  is  the  gate  to  the  pathwa)'  leading  to  the  ball,  winding  along  the  top  of  a 
high  bank,  fringed  with  foliage  and  wild  fiowers.  Following  this  path  we  gradual!) 
catch  a  glimpse  of  slender,  snowy  streams  of  foam  descending  o\er  the  dark.  rock\ 
precipice.  These  are  the  outlying  stragglers  of  the  great  Fall,  and  are  as  beautiful  in 
themselves  as  some  Swiss  cascades,  one  of  tliem  looking  like  braided  threads  of  molten 
silver  as  It  falls  over  the  jutting  rocks,  and  another  reminding  the  tra\eller  of  the 
Geissbach.  By  the  time  the  top  of  the  strong  wootlen  stairs  leading  down  the  rapidly- 
descending  bank  is  reached  the  upper  part  of  the  main  ball  is  in  full  view ;  though  not 
till  we  descend  two-thirds  of  really  dizzying  stair,  can  it  be  realized  in  its  entire  majest)-, 
as  it  makes  a  sheer  plunge,  a  mass  of  snowy  foam  in  mad,  headlong  rush,  down  the 
precipice  of  250  feet.  The  illustration,  excellent  as  it  is,  can  hardly  convey  a  true 
idea  of  its  majestic  height  as  seen  from  one  of  the  resting-places,  about  one-third  of 
the  distance  from  below,  where  we  can  best  appreciate  the  full  sweep  and  volume — 
partly  cut  off,  in  the  illustration,  by  the  intervening  rocks.  Higher  than  Niagara,  yet 
on  account  of  its  comparatively  small  volume,  it  has  nothing  like  the  stupendous 
grandeur  of  that  mighty  cataract,  but  much  more  of  picturesque  beauty  in  its  setting- 
while  its    greater    height    is    emphasized  by  its  narrower  limits. 

At  the  head  of  the  Fall,  on  either  bank,   stand  massive  stone  piers,  memorials  of  a 
tragedy  which  occurred  there    many  years   ago.      A  suspension    bridge,  built   across    the 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIl'E 


109 


LOOKING     TOWARDS     (JUKBEC, 
From    Montinorencv. 


top  of  the  Fall,  liad  l)('f'n  too 
sliirhtly  constructed,  ami  iiad 
not    stood    ver\'    lon^-    before  it 

broke  asunder  while  a  Jiabitant  and  his  wife  were  crossing  it  in  their  market-cart. 
They  were  swept  at  once  over  the  cataract,  never  to  be  seen  ai^ain.  The  bridge 
was  not  rebuilt,  the  two  piers  still  standing,  mute  monuments  of  the  tragedy.  The 
house  already  seen  above  the  Fall — associated  with  the  father  of  our  gracious  Queen 
is  a  conspicuous  object  from  the  top  of  the  stair,  and  the  paths  laid  out  in  the 
ijrounds  must  command  noble  views.  A  part  of  one  of  the  small  cascades  is  used  for 
turning  the  machiner\-  of  a  saw-mill  near  by,  but  the  mill  itself  is  kept  well  out  of 
^iL,dit.  Rafts  and  lumber  piles,  however,  are  prominent  features  along  the  shore  of  the 
li^cr  as  it  enters  the  St.    Lawrence. 

At  the  foot  of  the  Fall  the  famous  "  Cone,"  an  irregular  mound  of  ice  and  snow,  is 


1  lO 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


gradually  formed,  in  winter,  b)'  the  freezini^  spray.  It  grows  till  it  attains  a  height  so 
considerable  that  it  serves  as  tlie  favourite  tobogganning  ground  of  the  gay  people  of 
Quebec,  who  make  regular  sleighing  expeditions  to  the  locality  to  enjoy  this  exhil- 
arating though  somewhat  dangerous  Canadian  sport.  When  the  "Cone"  and  its 
vicinity  are  alive  with  tobogganners — the  ladies  dressed  in  bright,  becoming  costumes, 
some  of  them  making  the  dizzy  descent  in  a  light  cloud  of  snow,  others  slowl)'  drawing 


MONTMORKNCV    RIVER    ABOVE    lALLS. 


their  toboggans  up  the  "Cone" — the  scene,  in  its  winter  attire  of  pure,  sparkling  snow, 
crusting  the  dark  evergreens  and  contrasting  with  the  rushing  Fall,  is  at  once  a  grand 
and  pleasing  one. 

We  turn  away  reluctantly  from  the  beautiful  picture,  and  in  a  few  minutes  are  rattlin<; 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL   AND   DESCRIPTIVE  m 

back  alonsj;^  the  road  to  Quebec.  The  city,  ?  we  draw  near  it,  in  the  evening 
light,  appears  to  blaze  out  in  a  glittering  sheen,  every  tin  roof  giving  back  the  afternoon 
sunshine  till  the  whole  rock  seems  irradiated  with  a  golden  glory,  in  strong  contrast  to 
\\\('.  deep  tones  of  the  hills  bevond.  Graduallv  the  <Aok\  resolves  itself  into  roofs  and 
liouses,  and  soon  we  cross  Dorchester  Bridge  again,  when,  turning  by  a  side  street  to 
the  right,  we  pass  through  the  deserted  market-place  outside  St.  John's  Gate,  and  are 
once  more  within    the    city,   driving    along    St.   John    Street,   the  chief  thoroughfare. 

One  of  the  points  of  interest  in  the  immediate  vicinit\-  of  Quebec,  is  the  site  of  the 
old  hunting-lodge  of  the  Intendant  Bigot,  beyond  the  village  of  Charlesbourg.  Leaving 
the  main  road,  we  penetrate  through  a  tangled  thicket  and  reach  an  open  glade  beside 
a  stream  wliere  some  weather-worn  walls,  the  remains  of  what  is  popularly  called  the 
Chateau  Bigot,  stand  amid  lilac  and  syringa  bushes  which  still  show  traces  of  an  old 
garden.  There  the  wicked  Intendant  was  wont  to  hold  his  carousals  with  his  boon  com- 
panions of  the  hunt,  after  the  fashion  describetl  in  the  "  Chicii  ifOrT  It  has  its  legend 
of  a  buried  hoartl  of  silver  and  of  a  beautiful  Huron  girl  who  loved  Bigot  and  died  a 
violent  death.  But  apart  from  legend,  it  has  a  wild  grace  of  its  own,  with  its  hoary 
vestiges  of  a  long-past  habitation,  and  the  pine-crowned  mountain  rising  as  a  noble  back- 
ground  behind   the  surrounding  trees. 

Sillery  is  among  the  sacred  places  of  Quebec,  and  a  jMlgrimiige  thither  is  one  of 
the  pleasantest  little  excursions  one  can  make  from  the  old  cit\'.  From  the  deck  of  the 
"James,"  which  plies  on  the  river  ijetween  Quebec  and  Sillery,  we  can  look  up,  first  to  the 
old,  steep  houses  massed  under  the  scarped  rock  that  shoots  aloft  on  to  Dufferin  Terrace, 
with  its  watch-towers,  and  thence  to  the  crowning  height  of  the  Citadel.  W'e  steam  slowly 
past  the  brown  shelving  precipice  of  Cape  Diamontl,  with  its  fringe  of  I'Vench  houses 
and  shipping  ;  past  luml)er  vessels  lifting  huge  logs  from  rafts  in  the  stream,  beyond 
the  point  where,  high  up  on  the  red-brown  rock  we  can  easily  read  the  inscription, 
"Here  Montgomery  fell — 1775."  Then  we  pass  the  green  plains,  with  their  broken 
ground  ami  old  earthworks  and  Martello  tow('rs  and  observatory  and  the  grim  gaol — a 
conspicuous  mass  ;  then  a  stretch  of  ground,  covennl  with  low  vegetation,  gives  place  to 
high-wooded  banks  and  shades,  opening,  through  masses  of  pine  and  oak  and  maple 
ff)liage,  glimpses  of  pleasant  country-seats.  Opposite,  from  the  curving  point  of  Levis, 
ilu'  eye  follows  height  after  height,  rich,  rounded,  wooded  hills,  at  the  foot  of  which, 
just  o[)posite,  lies  the  busy  village  of  New  Liverpool,  with  its  massive  and  finely- 
trescoed  church. 

But  we  must  leave  Sillery,  with  its  sacred  and  stirring  memories,  and  drive  up  the 
I'lliage-clail  height  which  makes  so  effective  a  background.  A  gradual  ascent  above 
the  residence,  soon  brings  us  to  the  level  ground  above,  to  the  pretty,  foliage-embowered 
St.  Louis  road,  where  we  pass  the  pine-shaded  glades  of  Mount  Hermon  Cemetery. 
Spencer  Wood  is  one  of   the  charming  country  residences  of  which  we  catch  a    passing 


1  12 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


QUEBEC:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


113 


glimpse,  and  its  bosky  recesses  and  bright  gardens  are  the  scenes  of  many  a  pleasant 
f(Jte  for  the  beau  viondc  of  Quebec,  under  the  hospitable  auspices  of  the  Lieutenant- 
(iovernor  of  the  day.  As  we  draw  nearer  the  city,  cross-roads  give  us  glimpses  of 
the  grand  mountain  landscape  to  the  north,  and  of  the  Ste.  P'oye  road,  which  leads  by  an 
extremely  pretty  drive  to  the  Ste.  Foye  monument,  on  an  open  plateau  on  the  brow  of 
the  cliff  overhanging  the  valley  of  the  St.  Charles.  The  monument,  a  slender  Doric 
pillar  crowned  by  a  bronze  statue  of  Bellona,  presented  by  Prince  Napoleon  on  the 
occasion  of  his  visit  to  Canada,  commemorates  the  battle  of  Ste.  Foye,  between  Levis 
and  Murray — the  final  scene  in  the  struggle  between  French  and  English  for  the  pos- 
session of  Canada — and  also  marks  the  grave  of  those  who  fell.  It  bears  the  inscription, 
"Aux  braves  de   1760,  ei/<^e  par  le  Societe  St.  Jean  Baptiste  de  Qiidbec,  i860." 

About  two  and  a  half  miles  along  the  Ste.  Foye  road  lies  the  Belmont  Cemetery, 
the  burying-place  of  the  great  Roman  Catholic  churches — the  Basilica  and  St.  Jean 
baptiste.  There,  under  the  solemn  pines,  sleeps,  among  many  of  his  compatriots,  the 
noble  and  patriotic  Garneau.  the  historian  of  French-Canada.  With  a  visit  to  his  tomb 
we  may  appropriately  close  our  wanderings  about  this  historic  city. 


AUX    BRAVES. 


114 


FRF.XCIf  CANADIAX  IJFF.    AND   ClfARACTFR 


FALLS    OK    MONTMOKKNCY. 


SOUTHEASTERN  QUEBEC 


H3 


■'*  V--.  'i^ite/  gr^ 


\    :..^X^    > 


ROUGEMONT     AND    VALLEY. 


SOUTH-EASTERN    QUEBEC. 


Q  IRK  rCHING  away  south-easterly  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  New  filnirland 
frontier,  and  on  other  two  siili^s  bounded  by  the  Rivers  Richelieu  and  Chaudiere, 
lir^  one  of  the  fairest  tracts  of  Old  Canada,  b'onnin^-  the  core  of  it,  lie  the  freeholds 
|>t  the  l^astern  Townships;  and  they  are  frinj^ed  on  three  sides  by  the  old  tiefs  of  Louis 
XI \'.  Alt();.;ether,  there  may  be  ten  thousand  scjuare  miles  in  the  tract.  A  land  of 
river  and  plain;  of  mountain,  and  tarn,  ami  lake,  and  valley;  but  first  and  chieHy  a 
rivcr-land.     Along   its  northern  shore    sweeps    the    micrhty  St.    Lawrence,   now    deploying 


ii6  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

into  a  lake  ten  iniles  wide,  and  then  calling  in  his  battalions  for  that  majestic,  resistless 
march  Kj  the  sea.  And  down  to  the  swelling  tide  of  the  St.  Lawrence  hasten — besides 
brooks  or  streams  innumerable — half  a  dozen  goodly  rivers,  the  Richelieu,  Yamaska,  St 
Francis,  Nicolet,  Hccancoiirt,  Chaudiere.  Were  we  to  climb  these  rivers  through  their 
beautiful  winding  glens,  we  should  meet  foaming  rapids  and  dizzy  cascades  ;  then  quiet 
pools  within  lofty  walls  of  verdure,  antl  delightful  shadowed  reaches  where  speckled  trout 
still  linger;  yet  higher  among  the  mountains  we  should  find  such  romantic  lakes  as 
Brome,   Memphremagog,    Massawippi,  and  Megantic. 

Throughout  this  land,  the  strata  have  been  much  shaken  and  changed  by  some 
Titanic  force, — seemingly  steam  heated  beyond  the  scale  of  aii)-  pyrometer,  and  tortured 
under  pressure  which  would  be  inadequately  gauged  by  thousands  of  tons  to  the  square 
inch.  Sir  William  Logan  traced  a  line  of  tlislocation  from  Missis({uoi  Hay  on  Lake 
Champlain  to  Point  Levis,  along  which  the  wrenching  asunder  of  strata  is  equivalent 
to  a  vertical  displacement  of  many  thousands  of  feet.  Westward  of  this  line  of 
rupture,— which  we  shall  call  Logan's  Line, — the  sedimentary  rocks  that  were  directly 
exposed  to  incandescent  steam  softened,  rearranged  their  elements,  and  ran  to  a 
glassy  or  stony  paste.  Under  the  enormous  pressure  below,  the  surface  strata  presently 
cracked  and  sometimes  opened  wide.  Instantly,  into  the  cracks  antl  fissures  rushed  thi 
pasty  rock,  forming  dykes  of  trachyte  or  diorite.  In  places,  the  very  granite  founda- 
tions of  the  world  seem  to  have  softened,  ami  followed  the  sedimentary  rocks  to  iht 
surface.  Where  the  ground  yielded  most,  stately  j)\  raniids  of  mountain-protoplasm  were 
born.  It  is  to  such  throes  of  Mother  Earth  we  owe  the  beautiful  sisterliood  of  Heloil 
Mountain  and  \'amaska,  Rougemont  and  Mount  Monnoir;  the  Houcherville  Mountains. 
and  Mont  Royal  itself.  Eastward  of  Logan's  Line,  more  intense-  still  nnist  have  been 
the  energy  that  girdled  Lake  Memphremagog  with  such  soaring  peaks  as  Mount 
Orford,  Owl's  Heatl,  and  Elephantis.  Within  historic  times,  some  severe  earthcpiakes 
have  shaken  this  area,  but  even  the  most  \ioleiit  were  gentle  pastime  compared 
with  the  elemental  wars  of  geological  anti(|uity.  To  be  sure,  every  one  was  frightened 
by  these  earthepiakes,  but  then  no  one  was  killed.  I-rom  the  records  of  the  old  Jesuit 
Mission  on  the  St.  Francis,  we  learn  that  on  the  fifth  of  September,  1732,  the  Indian 
Village  was  so  rudely  shaken  as  to  destroy  its  identity;  of  this  "  bouleversement," 
traces  are  still  discernil^le  on  both  sides  of  the  ri\er.  More  general,  and  far  more 
violent,  was  the  famous  earthquake  of  1663.  On  the  fifth  of  February,  began  a  series 
of  convulsions  which  did  not  quite  disappear  till  mitlsummer.  Land-slides  occurred  all 
along  the  river-iianks,  and  the  blue  .St.  Lawrence  ran  white  as  far  down  as  Tadousac. 
Every  one  explained  the  phenomenon  in  his  own  way.  At  Montreal,  not  a  few  ceii- 
sciences  were  smitten  for  having  sold  fire-water  to  the  Indians.  The  Indians,  howev'  r, 
declared  that  the  shades  of  their  forefathers  were  struggling  to  return  to  the  earthlv 
Hunting  Grounds  ;  and,  most  undutifully,  they  kept  firing  off  their  muskets  to  scare  thi  ii' 


SOUTHEASTERN  QUEBEC 


117 


Ht;Ui:il,     MOUNTAIN,     i  Ku.M     KICHliLlEU     KIVLK. 


uiKiuiet    sires ;    for,   (luoth    the    musketeers,   it's    plain    to    see    there's    not    yamc    enouorh 
on  earth   for  both  of    us ! 

Some  ancient  hurly-burl\-  of  the  rocks  has  here  hrousjjht  witliin  convenient  reach 
a' vast  variety  of  tliinq-s  useful  or  ornamental.  If  you  are  house-l)uiklin>,r,  \ou  liave 
limestone  for  the  foundation,  cla\-  for  bricks,  and  sand  and  lime  for  mortar;  granite  for 
ihe  lintels  and  window-sills,  or  for  the  wliok;  house;  if  you  like  ;  magnesite  for  cements  ; 
slate  for  your  roof ;  serpentine  and  verd-anti(|ue  for  )<)ur  mantles.  Then,  as  for 
metals,  we  find  chromic  iron  at  Melbourne,  and  in  Bolton  and  Ham;  manganese  in 
Stanstead ;    the  copper  ore  of    Acton   has  long  been   famous  ;    and  gold   has    been    found 


ii8  FRF.MCff  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CIIARACTFR 

in  notable  quantity  on  the  upper  course  of  the  Chaudifere,  and  around  its  fountain, 
Lake  Megantic.  Not  even  are  gems  altogether  absent :  jasper  is  found  at  Sherbrooke  ; 
and  beautiful  little  green  garnets,  like  miniature  emeralds,  have  been  picked  up  in  Orford, 

This  land  was  hrst  seen  of  Europeans  three  centuries  and  a  half  ago.  Let  us 
for  a  little  view  it  through  the  keen,  searching  eyes  of  Captain  Cartier,  the  famous 
St.  Malo  seaman.  He  had  a  few  days  ago  reached  Stadacona,  the  Indian  i)recursor  of 
Quebec.  Donnacona,  the  Indian  lord  of  the  soil,  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  going 
farther ;  but,  laughing  aside  all  fears  and  obstructions,  Cartier  would  explore  for  him- 
self the  great  river  of  Hochelaga,  and  would  see  that  Indian  metropolis  of  which  the 
fame  had  reached  him  down  by  the  Gaspe  shore.  On  the  19th  of  September, 
1535,  leaving  the  two  largest  of  his  three  vessels  in  the  River  St.  Charles,  the  explorer 
pushed  up  stream  with  two  boats  and  the  Fmcrillon.  This  ship  was  named  from  the 
little  falcon  that  in  I^nglantl  was  called  the  Merlin  : — ^indeed,  a  craft  of  forty  tons 
would  seem  to  us  a  land-bird,  rather  than  a  bird  of  the  ocean.  Over  the  St.  Lawrence 
now  hover  great  sea-fowl,  of  more  than  a  hundred  times  the  Merlin  s  tonnage  ;  but 
pray  remember  it  was  the  Merlin  led  the  way.  The  staunch  little  ship  had  bravely 
ridden  the  violent  storms  of  the  outward  passage  ;  outliving  one  of  her  consorts,  she 
would  return  to  I*" ranee ;  and,  six  years  hence,  she  would  again  be  put  in  commission 
for  Cartier's  third  cruise  to  Canada. 

In  the  discoverer's  party  were  not  only  weather-beaten  tars  of  Normandy  and 
Brittany,  but  some  of  the  young  noblesse  of  the  court  of  l^Vancis  the  First.  There 
were  Claude  du  Pont-Briant, — Chief  Cup-bearer  to  the  Dauphin, — Charles  de  la  Pom- 
meraye,  and  others  of  the  jeiinesse  don'e  of  that  gay  epoch.  Their  dreams  were  of 
romantic  adventure,  and,  at  the  farther  end,  rich  Cathay,  or,  as  they  called  it,  La  Chine  ; 
to  these  Argonauts  La  Chine  was  the  land  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  now  they  were 
surely  on  the  road  thither.  If  you  ascend  the  St.  Lawrence  on  a  sunny  afternoon  in  the 
autumn,  the  chances  are  that  you,  too,  may  fall  into  some  such  day-dream.  As  the  rock 
of  Quebec  faded  from  sight,  the  river-banks  became  clothed  with  such  loveliness  as 
stirred  the  St.  Malo  seaman.  There  were  park-lands  wooded  with  "  the  most  beautiful 
trees  in  the  world";  and  the  trees  were  so  trellised  with  vines  and  festooned  with 
grapes  that  it  all  seemed  the  work  of  man's  hand.  Indeed,  human  dwellings  now 
became  numerous,  and  fishermen  were  seen  taking  frequent  toll  of  the  river.  With 
great  heartiness  and  good-will  the  natives  brought  their  fish  to  Cartier's  little  squadron. 
Presently  a  sharp  current  was  felt  on  reaching  the  river-elbow  unat  now  bears  the 
classical  name  of  Pointe  Platan.  Just  above  was  a  sanll,  as  yet  only  known  or  named 
of  Indians,  but  a  century  later  its  hurrying  waters  would  reflect  the  unquiet  spirit 
of  the  time,  and  be  called  the  Richelieu  Rapid.  It  is  still  the  custom  with  our  sailors 
to  wait  for  the  flood-tide  in  taking  this  dangerous  gateway.  The  little  Merlin  wisely 
dropped   anchor. 


SOUTHEASTERN  QUEBEC  i'9 

"  Scarce  could  Artfo  stem  it :    wherefore  they, 
It  lieinjr  but  early,  anchored  till  mid-day, 
And  as  they  waited,  saw  an  eddy  rise 
Where  sea  joined  river,  and  before  their  eyes 
The  i)attlc  of  the  waters  did    begin. 
So,  seeinjj  the  mighty  ocean  best  therein, 
W(  ighing  their  anchor,  tiiey  made  haste  to  man 
Doth  oars  and  sails,   and  therewith   flying,  ran 
With  the  first  wave  of  the  great  conqUL-ring  llood 
Far  up  the  stream,  on  whose  banks  forests  stood 
Darkening  tiie  swirling  water  on  each  side." 

While  the  French  explorers  still  lay  at  anchor  they  were  encompassed  by  a  flotilla 
of  canoes.  One  brought  the  Grand  Seigneur — as  Cartier  calls  him — of  the  country,  which 
is  now  occupied  by  the  Eastern  Townships  and  the  enclosing  seigniories.  His  village 
on  Pointe  Platon  was  called  Ochelay.  By  signs  and  gesticulations  the  Indian  chief 
pictured  the  dangers  of  the  rapid.  As  a  conclusive  proof  of  his  sincerity,  the  lord 
of  Ochelay  offered  the  French  commander  two  of  his  children  for  adoption  ;  and 
Cartier  chose  a  little  girl  of  seven  or  eight  years.  The  poor  mother's  heart  seems  to 
have  been  ill  at  ease ;  for,  when  the  explorers  returned  to  Quebec,  she  went  down 
the  river  to  see  how  it  fared  with  her  child. 

Cartier's  journal  and  description  of  the  Ste.  Croix  River  were,  two  centuries  and  a 
half  ago,  read  to  mean  that  the  discoverer  spent  the  woful  winter  of  1535-6  under  Pointe 
Platon,  and  that  his  vessels  lay  in  the  estuary  of  the  river  which  enters  the  St.  Lawrence 
from  the  opposite  bank.  So  that  to  this  day  the  parish  on  the  south  bank  is  called 
Ste.  Croix,  and  the  opposite  river  is  called  Jacques  Cartier.  But  Champlain,  in  1608, 
cleared  up  this  question  by  finding  near  Quebec  the  remains  of  Cartier's  winter  en- 
campment, and  three  or  four  cannon-balls.  When,  despite  the  Convention  of  Susa, 
Admiral  Kirkt  pounced  on  Quebec,  it  set  Champlain  thinking  that  if  ever  he  got 
Canada  back,  the  country  would  have  more  than  one  bastion  for  its  defence.  Resto- 
ration having  been  made  by  the  Treaty  of  St.  Germain,  the  Governor  set  to  work,  in 
1633,  and  fortified  the  little  island  that  commands  the  gateway  of  Pointe  Platon, — 
calling  island  and  fort  "  Richelieu,"  in  honour  of  the  great  Cardinal  who  had  just 
chartered  the  "  New  Company  of  One  Hundred  Associates."  More  than  two  centuries 
;ii,fo,  Champlain's  Fort  Richelieu  had  already  mouldered  into  oblivion,  but  river  pilots 
still  call  the  swirling  water  here  the  Richelieu  Rapid.  In  early  days  the  island  pro- 
duced such  a  profusion  of  grapes,  that  Cartier's  description  of  Orleans  Island  was 
misapplied  to  Isle  Richelieu,  thus  completing  the  confusion  in  the  discoverer's  narrative. 
And  this  brings  us  back  to   1535. 

After  passing  the  rocky  gateway  of  Pointe  Platon  the  St.  Lawrence  widened,  and 
ihen  the  country  seemed  to  our  Jason  and  his  Argonauts  a  very  land  of  enchantment. 


120  FRIiXC/f  CANADI:LV  UF/i    AND   ClfARACTliR 

No  wonder.  The  genial  September  sun,  the  cloudless  skies,  the  blue  waters  of  the 
nii>j;hty  river  h(!re  y^cMitly  drawinj^r  the  shores  miles  apart;  ami  then  the  towerinj^ 
forests  on  either  hank  with  their  lonjj;  vistas  of  verdure  and  romantic  gloom, — the  St. 
Malo  seaman  might  well  declare  it  "as  fair  a  laud  as  heart  could  desire!"  Cartier  and 
his  brother-in-law,  Mark  Jalobert,  were  practised  pilots.  With  thi;ir  yawls  and  sound- 
ing-lines they  would  speedily  find  that  the  channel  lay  half  a  league  off  the  south 
bank.  At  times  they  were  near  enough  to  ilislinguish  our  native  trees.  Tht-re  were  seen 
lordly  oak-forests,  the  memory  of  which  is  still  preserved  in  the  two  Rivieres  du  Chine. 
As  the  Mcrliu  climbed  the  river,  the  south  bank  fell,  and  then  there  were  stale- 
ly elms  whose  long  tresses  swayed  in  the  breeze  and  toyed  with  the  laughing 
water.  Within  recesses  of  the  shore  were  descried  wild  swans  swimming  among 
the  willows.  From  the  marshes  beyond  rose  cranes  and  the  great  blue  heron, 
disturbed  in  their  dreams  by  this  inauspicious  Merlin,  startled  from  their  ancient 
haunts  by  the  spectre  of  civilization!  The  young  '\^eti(ilz  homtnes"  must  go  ashore 
and  spy  out  this  La  h1  of  Promise;  and  like;  those  who  in  the  ancient  days  spied  out 
Canaan,  our  adventurers  returned  from  this  Valley  of  ICshcol  fairly  borne  down  with  a 
load  of  grapes.  In  their  excursions  they  thought  they  had  seen  the  sky-lark  soaring 
from  the  meadow-land.  While  within  the  shadow  of  the  walnut-trees,  day-dreams  of  clear 
Old  France  came  strong  upon  them,  and  they  declared  that  in  this  New  F'rance  there 
were  the  same  sweet  warblers  as  they  many  a  time  heard — but,  alas,  some  of  them,  poor 
lads,  would  never  hear  again — in  the  royal  parks  of  St.  Germain  and  b'ontainebleau, — 
linnets,  and  thrushes,  and  blackbirds;  aye,  and  roiissipiolz, — "nightingales"!  Our  melo- 
dious song-sparrow  was  mistaken  for  a  nightingale  ;  so  to  this  hour  you  may  hear  in 
old  French  Canada,  and  in  the  Eastern  Townships,  the  sweet  notes  of  the  "rossignol." 

Nine  of  these  delightful  September  days  were  loitered  away  in  exploring  the  St.  Law- 
rence from  the  rock  of  Quebec  to  the  foot  of  a  lake  into  which  the  river  now  opened. 
But  to  many,  if  not  most,  of  those  gallant  fellows, — "  Ics  prhicipauix  ct  bons  compaigmvis 
que  notes  cussions"  says  Cartier,  brushing  away  a  tear, — this  would  be  their  last  summer 
upon  earth  ;  then  why  begrudge  them  a  few  sunny  hours  ?  Their  commamUr  called  the 
water  into  which  they  now  glided  Lac  d^AngoiilCmc, — doubtless  after  the  ancestral  earldom 
of  Francis  the  First.  Sixty-eight  summers  later.  Champlain  was  exploring  the  river  anev;, 
and,  as  he  then  supposed,  for  the  first  time.  He  reached  this  point  on  St.  Peter's  Day, — 
29th  June,  1603, — and  so  from  that  hour  to  this  the  water  has  been  called  Lake  .St.   Peter. 

What  the  earlier  navigator  viewed  from  the  top  of  Mont  Royal,  Champlain  ex- 
plored in  detail.  And  first,  that  arrowy  river  which,  after  shooting  past  the  towering 
Beloeil,  entered  Lake  St.  Peter.  When  the  great  Cardinal-Duke  of  Richelieu  became 
''Chef,  Grand  Maisfre,  ct  Sjir-Intendant  General  of  French  Commerce  and  Navigation," 
the  River  of  the  Iroquois  and  the  archipelago  at  its  mouth  took  his  name;  but  in 
1603,  and  all  through  Champlain's  narratives  and  maps,  this  water-course  is  Rivitre  des 


sour  If  EASTERN  Oi  'EH  EC 


I  21 


',    _..itj»f;,...,.;. 


"''«(iaAnM" 


—     ..;t& 


CHAMHl.V-THK  OLD  lOKT,  AND  CIIAMHLY  KAIMOS. 


f: 


,?:t. 


BASTION     OF     FORT. 

lieu  and  St.  Lawrence. 
It  formed  a  kind  of  naval 
cl(.'[)ut,  and  thus  antici- 
pated    by     nearly     three 


Yiocois.  It  led  directly  to  the  lanil  of  the 
Mohawks,  the  most  easterly  of  the  Five 
Nations  ;  and.  as  the  most  easterly,  the  Mo- 
hawks were,  in  Indian 
metaphor,  the  "Door"  of 
that  "  Loni;  I  louse  "  which 
stretched  from  the  Hud- 
son   to    the    Niagara. 

Hut  these  sprightly-  door- 
keepers were  not  content 
to  stand  at  their  arms. 
In  1603,  Champlain  fouiul 
that  the\'  were  preparing^ 
an  invasion  of  Canada,  and 
that,  l)y  way  of  precaution 
a_i;ainst  them,  an  inclosure 
had  been  stron^K'  stock- 
aded by  the  AlL^onquins  at 
the   junction    of  the    Riche- 


if'r^SfS(P^f^rrf^^.^-^--:iis^--'^^r 


MONUMENT    TO    DK    SALAUKRKY 


centuries       the       present 

river-lleets  and   ship-yards  of  Sorel.       As  he  ascendetl  the    Riclu^lieu,   Champlain,    tindinij 

the  current  too  strong  for  his  boat,   attemptt-d  to  make   his  \sa\  along  the   banks  : 


"  Tluougli  woods  and  waste  lands  cleft  by  stormy  streams, 
Past  yew-trees,  and  the  heavy  liair  ol  |)Mies. 
And   where  the  dew  is  thickest  under  o.iks, 
This  way  and  that;    bnt  questing  up  and  down 
Thev  saw  no  trail." 


\Vitb    the    aid    of  a    light  skiff,    Champlain    got    two    leagues    farther,   but  here    met 


12; 


F/^/^Xai  C.IX.IDIAX  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


violent  rapids,  wliich  have  since  been  levellccl  up  by  the  o^reat  clam  at  St.  Ours.  For 
the  present  his  e.xploration  must  be  abandoned  ;  but  si.x  years  hiter  he  was  here 
again.  He  must  meantime  content  himself  with  questioning  the  Indians  as  to  the  un- 
discovered country  to  the  south  and  west.  In  language  that  he  but  imperfectly 
understood  they  told  him  of  a  chain  of  lakes;  and  sounding  through  these  lines  of  his 
narrative,  we,  in  1603,  for  the  first  time  recognize  the  mighty  voice  of  the  distant 
Niagara.     (//  descend  11  n  orandissinie  courant  dean  dans  le  diet  hu.) 

At  his  second  visit,  (1609,)  Champlain  coasted  in  a  more  leisurely  way  the  south 
shore  of  Lake  St.  Peter.  He  explored  for  some  little  distance  the  rivers  Dupont 
(Nicolet),  and  Gennes  (Vamaska),  admiring  their  scenery  and  the  luxuriant  vegetation 
of  their  banks.  The  Dupont  we  take  to  have  been  named,  seventy-four  years  before, 
as  a  compliment  to  Dupont-Briant,  whom  Cartier  mentions  among  the  )oung  jioblessc 
of  his  Hochelaga  expedition.  More  than  a  centurj'  afterwards — i)robably  in  1643 — 
this  beaut'ful  and  romantic  river  was  named  anew  ;  this  time,  "  Nicolet,"  after  a  much 
nobler  and  more  serviceable  fellow  than  the  Chief  Cup-bearer  to  his  Highness  the 
Dauphin.       By   the    way,  our    Most  Serene   Dauphin   found  a  sudden  death    in  his  cups. 

Francis  the   First  declared  that  his  son  hatl 
been    poisoned    by    the    contrivance    of    his 
great   adversary,    the    Emperor    Charles  V  ; 
but  the   cooler  view   of   the   matter    is  that 
the    young    man    took    cramps    from    gulp- 
ing    down     ice -water.       So     pass     t,ff     the 
stage     Dauphin,    his    Ganymede,     and     our 
River  Dupont ! 
At    his    second    visit    Champlain    rested    two 
davs    at    the    mouth    of    the     Richelieu.       The 
Iroquois    of    the    Mohawk    Valle\'    wvyv    making 
determined    efforts  to    regain    tlu'ir  ancii-nt  con- 
trol of    the  St.    Lawrence.       To    tlu'    .Algonciuiii 
tribes    ncnv    in    possession    the    arrival  of    a    few 
I'rench  warriors    was  a    lucky  windfall.       Cham- 
plain   above    all    things    desired    to    explore    the 
countr\-,  and    was  thus  beguiled   into  leading  an 
Algonciuin     foray     into    the     undiscovi-rcd     land 
that     lay     to     the     south.        After     his     party 
nad  heartened    themselves    for    coming  toils    1)\ 
abundant    venison,    fish,    and    game,    he    began    the    ascent    of    the    Richelieu.       It    was 
early  in  July,     1609.         On   the  lower  river-islands  oaks    ami  walnuts    towered  aloft,  and 
groined  out    into  great  domes    of   foliage.       Into  their  shadows  glided  the   flotilla;     then 


OLD    CHURCH     AT    IBKRVII.LE, 


.SY^^  "ni EASTERN  QUEBEC 


123 


■4'- 

v' 


■^ 


into  tlic  deeper  shadows  of  Rela'il,  which 
Champlain  marked  on  his  map  as  vioiit 
fort.  Now  Chamhly  Basin  was  discovered 
with  its  parquet  of  meadows  and  a  rising 
amphitheatre  of  woods.  At  the  farther  end 
the  river  entered  then,  as  now,  with  foam- 
ing current,  throwing  the  beautiful  lake  into  gentle  undulations,  and  on  its  heaving 
bosom  islets  of  brilliant  verdure  shimmered  like  emeralds.  With  infinite;  fatigu*;  a 
portage  was  made  through  the  forest  around  Chambly  Rapids,  which  are  now  so 
easily  surmounted  by  the  Chambly  and  St.  Johns  Canal.  Above  the  -apids,  in 
mid-river,  was  the  island  since  called  Ste.  Therese.  It  is  now  a  sunny  i)asturaee  , 
but  at  its  discovery,  in  1609,  it  was  all  a  grove  of  what  Champlain  declares  the 
noblest  pines  he  had  ever  beheld.  Thence  past  the  site  of  the  future  St.  Johns; 
and  past  the  afterwards  historic  lie  aux  Noix;  then,  rounding  Rouse's  Point.  Cham- 
plain led  his  llotilla  of  twenty-four  canoes  into  the  lake-fountain  of  the  Richelieu. 
Altogether,  a  sight  to  stir  one's  blood  on  a  bright  July  morning:  the  new-found  lake 
with  its  glittering  waters  and  its  diadem  of  mountains;  llu;  wooded  islands  anil  shores 
in  the  full  glory  of  their  summer  leafage  ;  the  teeming  life  of  lake  ami  forest.  And 
mark  the  arrowy  llight  of  the  canoes  under  the  sweeping  stroke  of  those  swart 
athletes !  They  have  already  bounded  over  the  water-front  of  Canada,  but  in  tlu; 
wake  of  yonder  canoes  is  following  a  perilous  surf  of  bordt-r-wars.  Into  the  undertow 
will  be  drawn  all  who  approach  these  waters; — not  alone  Indians,  but  I'rench,  Dutch. 
English,  Americans  ;  and  more  than  two  centuries  will  pass  over  before  these  shores 
'iijoy  a  lasting  peace.  Hut  of  all  this  our  old  Governor  IkuI  no  thought.  He  had 
just  made  his  first  ac(|uaintancc  with  a  gar-pike;  was  remarking  on  its  "bill"  and 
vicious   teeth ;    was    thrusting   at    its  armour   with  his    poniard.       As    he    coursed    down 


124  FRFiNCH  CANADIAN  LIFE   AND   CHARACTER 

the  lake  he  was  much  eiiij^rossed  with  the  magnificent  scenery  on  either  hand.  To 
tlie  west  hi\  tiie  Adirondacks,  the  ancient  homestead  of  the  Aljj^onquin  warriors  who 
were  his  companions.  Their  forefathers  ileserted  that  picturesciue  wilderness  for 
the  (i^entler  shores  of  Hoch('laL,M,  drixint;-  before  them  the  then  unwarlike  lro(|U()is. 
whom  Cartier  had  found  tishini^-.  corn-plantinn',  and  road-making.  ContrastinL,^  their 
own  belter  fare  with  that  of  im])ro\  idcnt  and  often  famished  Algoncpiins,  the 
Iroquois  had  nicknametl  them  .-/^//;7';/r/r?r/'.v,  — "  Hark  ICaters."  Once  in  Canada,  the 
Adirondacks  became'  fused  into  the  other  Algon([uin  tiibes  that  occupied  the  banks  of 
the  Ottawa  ;  but  the  ancient  nickname  still  happil)'  adheres  to  thtiir  old  mountain 
home.  Through  Emerson's  muse  those  peaks  have  won  a  name  in  literature,  as  well 
as  on  maps  ;  but  on  that  morniny,  and  long  afterwards,  they  were  "Titans  without 
muse  or  name."  Then  awa\-  on  his  left  Champlain  saw  the  soaring  peaks  of  the 
Green  Mountains,  which,  through  the  French  verts  liioii/s,  have  given  name  to  the  State 
of  Vermont  The  discover(?r  remarked,  though  a  July  sun  was  shining,  that  their 
summits  were  white  with  snow.  His  Canadian  warriors  sighted  the  Iroquois  one 
night  at  ten  o'clock,  and  dawn  brought  an  encounter  on  the  headland  which  after- 
wards Ijecanie  historic  as  Crown  I'oint.  Champlain  and  his  two  l-Vench  soKliers 
shared  the  fray,  ami  then,  for  the  lirst  time,  these  solitudes  lu'ard  the  soimd  of  tire- 
arms.  Loadtnl  with  four  slugs  and  tired  into  a  crowd  at  thirty  paces,  their  an/ucfiusrs 
scattered  the  Mohawks  like  wild  pigeons.  W'hih,'  the  panic  lasted  Champlain  hurried 
down  the  lake,  and  back  to  the  St.  Lawrence.  To  commemorate  his  discovery  and  ad- 
venture, the  lake  was  b)-  himself  named  Cham])lain.  He  was  b\-  no  means  of  the 
mind  to  give  alms  to  oblivion  :  his  wife's  name  is  preservetl  in  St.  Helen's  Island  : 
and  the  river  St.  I'rancis  once  l)ore  his  father's  name,  iXntoine,  though  by  16S5  the 
old  sea-captain  hatl  alread}-  lost  his  grip  on  fame,  ami  tlu-  rixcr  had  passed  over  to 
the  patron   saint  of  the   .\b(Miakis    Indians. 

Among     Champlain's     contemporaries     was     Jean     Nicoh-t,    who     ne\'er    rose    to    be 
archon.   but  \et  b(;came  cpo)ty)iins  of  lake,    riv(!r,    town,   antl  count)-  in    the  tract  we    arc 
<lescril)ing.       A   natixe  of    CherI)ourg,   he  emigrated   to   Canada    when    \-oung  to   become 
an    interpreter.        L'tterl\-    de\-oitl    of    fear,     he    lixcd     eleven    years    among    the    Indians, 
and    took   a   full    share    of    every   danger    and    hardship.       Of    this    life    nini-    years    were 
.spent    among    the    Xipissings,   tliat    nation    of    wizards.        Henceforward,    Xicolet    himselt 
was    a  wizard.        \\\     the    sorcer\-   of    fair    ck^aling,   and    b\-  the    enchantment    of    truthfi 
words, 'he  gained    a    most    e.\traordinar\'  ascendancy  over  the    native   races,   ;ind     bee; 
the  great    peace-mak(u-  of   his   time.      He  composed   for  the   remainder   of  his  life   the  oh 
deadl)-   feud    between    Algon<piin   antl    Irocpiois.        He   had   gi\en    these  wild    men    "  metli 
cine"  to   make   them   lo\-e   him;     it   was   his  limpid   honesty  of    s|)i'ech    and   purpose.       Ii 
only  one    e.xtraordinary  emergenc)'  tlid    he    add   scenic    effects;     and,   mark    you,   he    wa 
then  on  a  foreign   embassy.       The   Hurons    had  become    embroiled  with  a  tribe    on    thi 


Ii 
mil 


SOUTHEASTERN  QUEBEC 


12  = 


OWL'S     HKAU,     KKUM     LAKK     MKMI'HKKMAtJUG. 


126 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


called  them.  Inill  of 
the  dream  of  th(>  time, 
Jean  thought  "  Mer " 
must  be  the  Chinese  Sea ;  and  to  caparison  himself  for  an  interview  w  ith  the 
Mandarins,  he  bought  a  robe  of  Chinese  damask,  embroidered  in  colours  with  a 
wild  profusion  of  birds  and  flowers.  Father  \'imont's  description  of  this  tlroll  outfit 
was  evidently  written  after  a  near  view  ;  and,  between  the  lines,  you  can  hear  the 
worthy  father  chuckling  at  the  bare  thought  of  it.  Arrived  on  the  farther  shore 
of  Lake  Michigan,  honest  Jean  set  up,  as  an  earnest  of  peace  and  good-will,  two 
Christmas-trees,  laden  with  frifts.  He  then  harnessed  himself  into  his  Chin(^se  flower- 
garden  and  aviar\-.  Hut,  doubting  how  the  Mandarins  of  Creen  Hay  might  re- 
ceive him.  h(?  took  in  each  hand  one  of  the  tremendous  pistols  of  that  era,  and.  send- 
ing forward  his  Huron  companions,  ad.vanced  towards  the  yet  unseen  metropolis. 
I'he  nerves  of  the  Winnebago  ladies  were  unecjual  to  the  strain  thus  cast  upon  them  : 
tlu'\-  ran  from  wigwam  to  wigwam,  screaming,  "A  bogie  is  coming,  thunderbolt  in  eacii 
hand!"  This  startling  prelude  over,  Nicolet  got  together  tlie  chiefs,  and  soon  won 
them  o\('r  to  friendship  with  \.\\v.  Ilurons.  After  "planting  the  Tret;  of  Peace,"  and 
throwing  earth  on  the  buried  tomahawks,  he  retununl  to  his  home  at  Three  Rivera 
Though  Xicolet  did  not  reach  tht;  Chinese  .S(.'a,  he  had  found  tlut  Wisconsin  River, 
and  all  bid  foiiml  tlic  Mississippi.  Indeed,  Mr.  (iilmary  Shea  awards  him  the  honour 
of    first  (liscoxcrv. 

Seven    or    eight    \'ears    after    this,    Nicolet,   thtMi    at    Quebec,   received    urgent    woid 
from    Governor      Montmagny      that    the    Algonquins    at     Three    Rivers     had    captun  d 


SOUrHEASTERN  OUEBEC 


127 


;i  Sokoki  Indian,  and  wore  about  to  burn  him  alive.  A  storm  was  raging  on  the  St. 
Lnwrcncc,  but  instantly  Nicolet  was  down  to  the  river,  entreating  the  owner  of  a 
sliullop  to  put  out.  They  had  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Cliaudiere,  and  were  abreast 
of  .Sillery  when  the  craft  was  blown  over,  and  Nicolet  was  swept  ilown  the  river.  The 
survivor  re[)ortcd  that  th(;  drowning  man's  thoughts  were  not  of  himself,  but  of  his 
wife  and  daughter.  So.  onward  I  thou  simple,  heroic  soul,  past  the  River  of  Death 
ami   the   (ireat   (ndf,   to   the   .Shoreless  Ocean  ! 

To  a  modern  tourist  who  <nt('rs  Canada  for  the  first  time  by  the  route  of  Lake 
Champlain,  then;  is  something  very  startling  in  the  sudden  change  of  names  as  he  passes 
from  Xew  York  or  X'ermont  to  the  valley  of  the;  Richelieu.  With  his  usual  artistic 
vi\idness,  Thoreau  expresses  th(;  effect  produced  on  his  mind  ; — "  To  me  coming  from 
New  Enghunl  it  a[)peared  as  Normandy  itself,  and  realized  much  that  had  been  heard 
of  Kurojx'  and  the  Middh-  -Ages.  Even  the  names  of  the  humble  Canadian  villages 
affected  me  as  if  they  had  been  those  of  the  renowned  cities  of  anticpiil)-.  To  be  told 
by  a  habitant,  when  1  asked  the  name  of  a  village  in  sight,  that  it  is  .SV.  Fcrcol  or  Ste. 
Ainii\  the  iiuardia)i  Am^cl,  or  the  Holv  St.  Joicplis;  or  of  ;i  mountain  that  it  was 
Bc/aiiot-  or  .S7.  1  lyaiiiilhc !  As  soon  as  we  leave  the  .States  these  saintly  names  begin. 
St.  Johns  is  the   first   town    you    stop  at,  and    henceforth  the    names  of    the    mountains, 


1 


MOUNT     OUKOKl). 


128  rRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

and  streams,  and  villages  reel,  if  I  may  so  speak,  with  the  intoxication  of  poetry  : 
Chambly,  Longiieuil,  Pointe-aiix-Trembles,  Harthelemi,  etc.,  as  if  it  needed  only  a 
little  foreign  accent,  a  few  more  liquids  and  vowels  perchance  in  the  language  to 
make  or  locate  our  ideals  at  once.  I  began  to  dream  of  Provence  and  the  Trouba- 
dours." 

So  far  the  Hermit  of  Walden.  But  underlying  what  he  calls  "  saintly  names." 
there  was  in  the  Richelieu  Peninsula  a  fervent  military  feudalism.  Through  this 
cassock  gleamed  a  steel  cuirass.  Though  the  splendid  illusions  of  the  Old  Regime 
have  long  since  faded,  the  haughty  names  of  that  epoch  still  kindle  with  an  after- 
glow. By  the  mere  names  of  these  villages,  towns,  and  seigniories,  you  may  conjure 
back  Louis  Quatorze  and  Versailles ;  the  state-craft  of  Colbert ;  the  soldiers  of 
Turenne  and  Vauban.  Picketed  around  the  ancient  rendezvous  at  the  confluence  of 
the  Richelieu  and  St.  Lawrence  are  the  officers  of  the  Carignan-Salieres,  as  though 
still  guarding  the  Iroquois  River-Gate  and  the  approaches  to  Montreal : — Captain 
Berthier,  Lieutenant  Lavaltrie ;  Boucher,  Varennes,  Vercheres,  Contrecoeur.  Twilight 
in  these  ancient  woodlands  awakens  sleeping  echoes  and  dead  centuries  ;  with  the  ris- 
ing night-wind  the  whole  place  seems 

"  Filled  as  with  shadow  of  sound,  with  the  pulse  of  invisible  feet." 

Through  the  forest  aisles  ring  out  elfin  trumpet-calls  ;  we  hear  the  r^veilli!  of  ghostly 
drums  beating;  the  prancing  of  phantom  horses;  the  clinking  of  sabres;  the  measured 
tread  of  Louis  the  P^ourteenth's  battalions.  At  roll-call  we  hear  officers  answer  to  fami- 
liar names: — "Captain  Sorel?" — "Here!" — "Captain  St.  Ours?" — "Here!" — "Captain 
Chambly?" — "Here!" — And  in  good  truth  most  of  them  are  still  here.  In  the  soft 
grass  of  God's  Acre  they  are  resting,  surrounded  b\-  those  faithful  soldiers  who  in 
death,  as  in  life,  have  not  deserted  them.  Together  these  veterans  fought  the  Turk 
in  Hungary,  and  drove  him  into  the  Raab  ;  together  they  chased  the  Iroquois  up  the 
Richelieu,  and  down  the  Mohawk  Valley  ;  and,  after  van  and  rear  had  passed  a 
darker  valley  and  an  icier  flood,  they  mustered  here  at  last  in  eerie  bivouac  together, 
During  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1665  the  soldiers  of  the  Carignan-Salieres 
may  have  been  seen  working  like  beavers  along  the  banks  of  the  Richelieu,  cuttiiii,^ 
down  trees  and  casting  up  earthworks.  By  the  following  year  a  line  of  five  forts  had 
been  completed, — Richelieu  (Sorel),  St.  Louis  (Chambly),  St.  Therese,  St.  Jean,  St. 
Anne.  The  first,  occupying  the  site  of  the  Chevalier  Montmagny's  old  fort,  com- 
manded the  mouth  of  the  river;  the  last  commanded  the  outlet  of  Lake  Champlain, 
and  stood  on  the  island  still  called  La  'Motte  after  the  Captain  who  directed  the 
work.  With  this  bridle  of  forts  well  in  hand,  Louis  XIV  hoped  to  rein  in  the  wikl 
Iroquois,  just  as  the  Wall  of  Severus  was  meant  as  a  snaffle  for  the    wild    Caledonian, 


SOUTHEASTERN  QUEBEC  129 

Settlements  of  the  legionaries  and  their  captains  were  formed  behind  the  Roman 
Wall ;  so  our  centurions  and  their  soldiers  occupied  seigniories  and  fiefs  under  cover 
of  these  river-forts. 

The  officers'  sons  and  daughters  inherited  the  high  spirit  of  their  race,  and  were 
often  remarkable  for  adventurous  and  heroic  qualities.  Lieutenant  Varennes  married 
little  Marie  Boucher,  daughter  of  a  brother  officer,  who  was  then  Governor  of  Three 
Rivers.  One  of  their  sons  was  that  Ensign  Varennes  de  Verendrye,  who,  fighting 
like  a  lion  under  Marshal  Villars  at  Malplaquet,  was  left  for  dead  on  the  field,  but 
revived  nevertheless,  and  was  consoled  for  his  nine  wounds  with  a  lieutenancy,  and 
returned  to  Canada;  next  we  hear  of  him  on  Lake  Nipigon ;  then  on  the  Kaminis- 
tiquia;  now  he  has  reached  Lake  Winnipeg,  is  building  a  fort,  and  is  floating  the 
first  fleur  de  lis  on  those  waters ;  is  the  first  to  explore  the  Saskatchewan ;  is  the 
first  to  behold  the  Rocky  Mountains.  And  what  school-child  in  Canada  has  not  read 
or  heard  of  Madeleine  Vercheres,  who,  at  fourteen  years  of  age,  beat  off  the  Iroquois 
from  her  father's  fort,  and  for  a  whole  week  maintained  her  vigil  on  the  bastion  until 
help  came  up  from  Quebec  ? 

The  first  commandant  and  seigneur  of  Chambly  seems  to  have  left  his  heart  in 
France,  for  he  made  over  his  whole  estate  to  Mademoiselle  Tavenet, — to  be  hers  at 
once  if  she  shared  his  fortunes  in  Canada ;  in  any  case,  to  become  hers  after  his 
death.  The  charming  Tavenet  preferred  to  wait ;  but  it  is  doubtful  whether  the  estate 
ever  reached  her.  A  few  words  more  will  dispose  of  the  gallant  Jacques  Chambly : 
appointed  by  Frontenac  to  the  chief  command  "as  a  most  efficient,  and  as  the  oldest 
officer  in  the  country";  promoted  by  Louis  XIV^  to  the  Governorship  of  Acadie ; 
captured  one  hot  August  day  at  the  mouth  of  the  Penobscot,  after  being  shot  down 
in  defending  Fort  Pentagouet  against  a  St.  Domingo  pirate ;  held  for  ransom  at 
Boston  ;  ransomed  by  Frontenac  at  his  private  charge  ;  appointed  to  Martinique,  where, 
let  us  hope,  Governor  Chambly  recovered  from  his  St.  Domingo  acquaintance  the 
amount  of  Frontenac's  bill  of  exchange.  A  little  more  than  a  century  later,  there  was 
serving  at  Martinique  another  seigneur  of  Chambly,  who  was  to  become  the  most 
distinguished  of  them  all, — Charles  de  Salaberr\-.  In  the  West  Indies  he  early  exhib- 
ited the  courage  and  resource  which  afterwards  won  for  him  and  his  Canadian 
\'oltigeurs  such  renown  at  Chateaugay.  Yet  with  might,  mercy ;  and  here  he  had 
Itefore  his  mind  not  only  the  family  motto,  but  the  example  of  his  old  Basque  ancestor, 
whose  feats  on  the  battle-field  of  Coutras  were  so  tempered  with  mercy,  that  Henry 
of  Navarre  gave  him  that  chivalrous  tievice,  Force  a  superbe;  mercy  a  faihlc, — "  Might 
for  the  arrogant  ;    mercy  for  the  fallen  ! " 

But,  besides  the  Richelieu,  there  were  other  water-ways  leading  over  to  the  St. 
Lawrence,  any  one  of  which  might  serve  the  Mohawk  raider.  If  the  Yamaska 
ajjproached  too  near  the  soldiers'  homes  of   the   Richelieu  Valley,  there  were  still  other 


'30 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFF.    AND   CHARACTER 


rivers  in  reserve, — notably  the  St.  I'Vancis.  To  close  at  a  stroke  all  these  flood-gates 
of  Iroquois  invasion,  l-rontenac  conceived  the  hold  project  of  throwing  across  the 
whole  country,  from  the  Yamaska  to  the  Chautliere,  the  warlike  Algoncjuin  tribe  of 
Abenakis.  who,  while  clost;  friends  of  tlu;  brench,  were,  from  their  very  lineage,  at 
deadly  feud  with  the  Irociuois.  Though  onct?  lonls  of  iiearl\-  ten  thousanil  scjuare 
miles,  aiul  the  terror  of  Xew  England,  the  Abenakis  are  now  almost  extinct.  A  mere 
handful  -descendants  of  the  few  that  escaped  Rogers'  Rangers — still  linger  near  the 
mouth  of  the  St.  Francis.  Within  their  former  domain,  the;  Abbi-  Maurault,  who  has 
dexoted  nearl\-  a  lifetime  to  these;  Indians  and  their  annals,  can  discov('r  but  three 
words  of  AbiMiaki  in-'v^\x\  :- -Coat  i cook,  "The  .Stream  of  the  I'ine-Land  ";  McniplircDiagoi^, 
"The  drc'at  .Sju't^t  of  Water";  Mcoaiitic,  "  TIu;  Resort  of  I'ish."  A  movement  of  the 
Abenakis  into  the  region  west  of  the  Chaudiere  began  in  December,  1679,  and 
emijraced  Imlians  of  two  contiguous  tribes, — the  luchemins  and  Micmacs.  all  three 
being  described  b\-  tJK;  iM-eiich  ;is  Xa/ioiis  A/>('iiakiscs.  Henceforth  tlu;  Abenakis 
remained  closi;  allies  of  I*" ranee.  (ihastl\-  reprisals  W(,'re  made  on  Xew  England  for 
the  scalping-raids  of  the  Inxpiois  into  CaiKula.  Horror  succeedeil  horror.  The 
Massacre  of  Lachine  was  mon;  than  avenged  by  the'  atrocities  of  Schenectad\\  I  )eer- 
field,   antl    Haverhill. 

At  Ha\erhill  these  avenging  furi(;s  were  led  by  J.  H.  Hertel  th;  Rouville,  who 
regartlecl  his  father's  hand--mutilated  and  burnt  1)\'  lro(juois  torturers — as  his  suf- 
ficient commission.  He  was  tlu;  first  lord  of  IJeheil  Mountain,  and  of  that  lovely 
mountain-lake  which  brechette  calls  iin  jovau  touihc  (fun  ccriii  fautastiquc, — "a  sa[)phire 
dropped  from  fairy  casket."  His  seigniory  included  tlu;  romantic  Rougemont  \'alU,'\- 
which  separates  RougcMiiont  Mountain  from  Ht'lojil.  Sw()o[)ing  from  his  e\ry.  Rouxille's 
beak  and  talons  were  at  the  heart  of  Xew  I'lngland  before;  the  ap[)roach  of  a  war- 
partv  was  dreamt  of.  Iberville,  tue  vis-a-i'is  of  .St.  Johns  on  the  Richelieu,  takes  its 
name  from  him  who  not  oul)'  became  a*  distinguished  navigator,  and  the  founder  of 
Louisiana,  but  who,  in  earlier  lile,  had  unhap|)il\'  been  forcmiosl  in  the  midnight  attack 
on  Schenectad\'.  I'or  nearl\-  a  century  this  merciless  and  rexohing  border-war  con- 
tinuetl,  until  in  the  (mkI  the  baltle-tield  was  shared  b\-  Ivngland  and  I-'rance,  and  the 
armies  of  .\mh(;rsl  and  Montcalm  wen;  at  each  other's  throats.  The  oKl  war-trail 
of  the  Richelieu,  which  conducted  Champlain,  and  Courcelles,  and  De  Tracy  against 
the  lro(piois,  now  led  brench  regiments  up  to  Crown  Toint,  Ticonderoga.  anel  \\'illi;un 
Henry;  or.  with  a  different  fortune  of  war,  might  lead  I^nglish  troops  down  to  Mon- 
treal. I'^ven  th(;  jjacification  of  i  763  brought  but  brief  rest  to  this  border-land.  With 
th(;  outbreak  of  the  Revolutionary  War  came  Moutg()iner\'s  invasion  bv  tlu;  Richelieu, 
and  the  capture  of  b'orts  .St.  John  anil  Chambly.  .Simultaneously,  Arnold  undertook 
his  memorable  winter-march  of  nearly  600  miles  u[)  the  Kenneb(;c  and  down  th( 
Chaudiere. 


SOUTH E.  iSl'i-RX   OL'ElUiC 


'3' 


LAKK     MASSAWll'l'I, 
AND     VAI.I.KY. 


W  i  t  h      the 
Peace  of    i  jS ;,  the  pio- 
neer's  axe    bewail    once 
more  to  rinL;'  out  ainoni^ 
these        rixcr  -  \alle\s. 
Within  a  romantic  hend 
of  the  ^'anlaska,  --"The 
Rush-floored  River,"  as  the  IncUan 
name     is    interpreted, — a    hamlet 
took  root  which    has    L;ro\vn    into    the    very 
pretty    calhech-al-town    or    cit)-    of    .St.    Ilya- 
cinthe.       NotroDame    of   Montreal   lias  here 
l)!'en  reproduced  in  miniature,  together  with    Hotel- 
Dieu    and  other   ecclesiastical  foundations.       The    J(;suit 
College  is  remarkable  for  its  equipment  as  well  as  extra- 


I.'>2 


FREXCIl  CANADIAX  LIFE  AND   ClfARACTER 


ortlinai*)"  size.  AcaiKMuies  iindrr  Protestant  auspices  are  also  in  full  activity.  Iiuh^ed, 
this  beautiful  river-nook,  with  its  shadowy  pine  groves  and  the  restfid  murmur  of  the 
water,  seems  to  havi;  been  1)\-  Natun;  s(;t  apart  for  stud\-  and  contemplation.  Matins 
and  even-son!^-  here  pealed  throui^h  the  rood-loft  of  i^n.-at  pines,  a_L;es  before  the  swelling 
OTLjan  of  church  or  (alheclral  was  heard.  i'!\cn  now  the  ("kmiIus  of  the  I'drest  linsj^ers 
despite  the  rumble  and  outcr\'  of  two  railways.  Still  ascentliny^  the  river,  w(;  pass 
Mount  \'ainaska,  and,  aft('r  resting-  at  the  \illaL,^e  of  (iranby,  climb  to  a  dark  valle\- 
walled  in  on  the  north  by  Shefford  Mountain,  and  b\-  tin;  Hrome  IMeuntains  on  the 
south.  In  l^romt;  Lake  the  fountain-head  of  the  Vamaska  is  reached, — a  romantic 
sheet  of    water,   with   the  vilhii^e    of    Knowlton   lu-ar  the   south   end. 

Here  leave  the  basin  of  Vamaska,  and  cross  over  to  Memphrematjoj^'-  and  Massa- 
wippi,  lake-fountains  of  the  .St.  brancis.  A  mountain-road  clambers  through  Holton 
Pass,  and  th(;n  races  ilown  to  the  shore  of  Lake  Memphremajrosj^.  P'rom  the  hei>,dits 
we  look  out  upon  scenes  of  many  a  wild  expedition,  romantic  or  trai^dc.  Yonder  is 
the  lake-L(ateway  throui^h  which  the  tierce  Abenakis  so  often  carried  desolation  to  tin- 
heart  of  Massachusetts.  It  was  throui^h  those  maple  woods,  on  our  west  flank,  that 
Roy^ers'  Ranyjers,  in  1759.  swept  like  a  whirlwintl  of  tlame,  to  exterminate  the  whole 
brood  of  tiij^ers  that  hail  so  lont,^  harried  the  homes  of  New  England.  Many  the  law- 
less advi'uture  of  love  and  war  in  the;  old  days  of  Partizan  and  Ranger,  who  often 
helped  (jut  the  glamour  of  romance  by  picturescpie  finery  or  Indian  costume.  Now 
A'ou  ma\-  wandtM-  at  will  amid  the  wiKlest  of  this  magnificent  scenerj,',  without  other 
adventure    than   the  rough    salute  of    tlu'  mountain-air,   that   "chartered  libertine": — 


But  liLTL-   liow  iilten   rides  the   R;in^a'i--\Viiul  1 
To  tn.'iiiblinjj  .ispens   lie   now   lisps  of  love, 
Or  jrrioviii<;  b.ilsiimt'irs  to  tears  will  move; 

Traj;ic   his  t.ile   the   pallid  birches  lind  ; 

He,  envious,  sees  the    wooded   peaks  reclined 

On  the  sweet  bosom  of  the  Lake  ;    nor  frown 
Of  darkling  Orford   heeds,  but  lilusters  down 

The  echoing  pass,  a  plume  of  mist  to  bind 

On  scowling  brow,   carbine    with  lightning  till  ; 

He  decks   him   in   rain-fringes  tagged  with  hail, 

In  ribbons  of  Hying  cloud  ;    then   whistles  shrill, — 
Snorting  leaps  forth   the   war-horse  of  the  gale  ! 

Wild  Crntaur-clouds  in   wheeling  squ.idrons  form, 

And  o'er  the  border  sweeps  th-i  Ranger-Storm  ! 


Lake  Memphremagog    is    brought    within    three    hours  of    Montreal    by  the    Souih- 
Eastern   Railway.      After  six  minutes  of  darkness  in   the  great  tube  of  Victoria    Bridge, 
recover  speed    with    sunlight,   and  strike    away  for    the    Richelieu,  which    is    crossed 


we 


SOUTHEASTERN  QUEBEC 


133 


BOLTON    PASS. 


134 


FRI'.XCII  CANAPIAS'  UFF.    AM)   ClfARACTI-.R 


"'  '■'! 


.♦' , 


COMMERCIAL    STREET. 


within  view  of  Chamhly  Basin  and  the  olil 
Fort.  Touching  the  Yamaska  at  West  Farii- 
ham,  we  cHmb  the  water- shed  of  Brome. 
Thence,  descend  the  valley  of  the  Missisquoi 
River,  winding  through  its  lovely  glens  and 
past  the  southern  Pinnacle  Mountain,  and  Hawk 
and  Bear    Mountains,  to    Newport  at    the  Vcr- 


SOC'T///:\.lsr£A\\    (JL'EliEC  135 

moiU  (Mul  of  Lake  M<Mnphr(:^laJf<)),^  A  third  of  tho  way  down  this  most  romantic 
water  the  boat-whistli;  apprises  us  that  W(-  arc  crossinj;  the  45ti>  parallel,  our  Interna- 
tional Hounilary.  'I'hen,  for  twenty  miles  northward,  a  |)erspective  of  noi)lest  scenery. 
The  west  short;  is  embossed  with  lofty  cones — Canadian  kindred  of  the  (irecn  Moun- 
tains— the:  hij^diest  of  the  coves  bein^'  Mount  Orford,  4,500  f<'et.  Owl's  Head  sprin_<,fs 
from  tlu!  water's  vxV^v.  2,700  ft-et  into  the  air.  HetwecMi  this  venerai)l(;  owl-haunt  and 
th(!  scul|)tured  profile  of  I'Mephantis  you  sail  over  a  still  unsounded  abyss,  which  baltled 
Sir  Ilu,L,di  Allan  and  his  sea-line  of  1,200  feet.  Yonder,  on  the  opposite  lu.'adland,  is 
that  old  sea-kini,f's  Chateau  ;  for,  in  llu.'  swelter  of  summer,  it  was  his  custom  to  rest 
here  from  the  care  of  his  lleets,  and  brace  his  nerves  with  "  the  wine  of  mountain  air." 
When  we  reach  the  lake-outlet  at  Mago<j^  we  seem  to  be  in  the  immediate  presence  of 
Orfortl,  thoujrh  the  mountain  stands  back  a  few  miles  from  the  shore.  F"rom  the 
summit,  in  clear  weatlu:r,  a  most  majLinificcnt  view  is  had  :  Mount  Royal,  and  all  the 
mountain-peaks  from  the  Richelieu  to  the  Chaudiere ;  Lake  Memphremaj^rog,  its  beau- 
tiful sister,  Massawippi,  and  a  score  of  other  lakes ;  the  Arcadian  landscape  of  the 
l^astern  Townships;  and,  beyond  their  southern  frontier,  the  (ireen  Mountains  of 
\'ermont,  and  the  White   Mountains  of   New   Hampshire. 

Not  the  least  delicious  bits  of  scenery  in  the  Eastern  Townships  lie  in  the  valley 
of  the  St.  Francis.  Amonji^  the  farmsteads  and  rich  herds  of  Compton  and  Stanstead 
winds  the  deep  chasm  of  the  Coaticook.  Of  Compton  )  ou  would  say, — "Just  the 
nook  that  a  contemplative  naturalist  might  choose  for  writing  a  SliephercVs  Calendar !" 
So  thought  Philip  Henry  (iosse  before  you,  and  settled  here  amid  the  "  martial  alarms 
and  stormy  politics"  of  1837-8.  It  w'ill  soon  be  a  half-century  since  he  haunted 
these  glens  and  woodlands.  In  an  excursion  to  Sherbrooke  we  need  no  longer  hope 
to  find  a  moose,  nor  fear  to  meet  a  gigantic  gray  wolf  ;  mill-wheels  and  factories  on 
the  Coaticook  and  Magog  have  frightened  away  many  of  the  fish  of  pioneer  days  ;  but 
in  bird,  insect,  and  wild-flower,  and  in  the  Spring  ferns,  flushing  with  sweet  verdure, 
may  be  seen  the  descendants  of  those  which  sat  to  the  gentle  naturalist  for  their 
portraits,  and,  "amid  the  fatigues  of  labour,  solaced  him  with  simple  but  enchanting 
studies." 

Rising  in  Lake  St.  I'Vancis,  and  expanding  into  Lake  Aylmer,  the  .St.  Francis  is 
joined  at  Lennoxville  by  the  Massawippi,  which  brings  th(;  tribute  of  the  Coaticook 
and  other  streams,  as  well  as  the  overflow  of  Lake  Massawippi.  Overlooking  this 
meeting  of  waters  at  Lennoxville,  and  surrounded  by  a  landscape  of  rare  loveliness, 
is  the  University  of  Bishop's  College,  with  its  pretty  Chapel  and  Collegiate  School. 
The  friends  of  Bishop's  College,  undisheartened  by  repeated  fires,  have  not  only 
restored  the  buildings,  but  extended  them,  and  provided  anew  a  good  working  library. 
Among  literary  donations  is  a  sumptuous  fac-simile  of  the  Codex  Sinaiticus,  from  the 
I'inperor    of    Russia.      Above    and    below    Lennoxville,  the    St.    Francis    lingers    among 


»36 


FRFXCIf  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   C/fARACTFR 


some  sweet  scenery  ;  the 

stillness  of  the  river  here 

is  in  strikinj^  contrast  to 

the    rude     concourse     at 

Sherbrooke,  where  the  Magog  dashes  wildl) 

down  a    steep  incline,  bringing  the  overHow 

of  Lakes   Magog  and   Memphremagog. 

The  hill-slopes  of  Sherbrooke  are  con- 
spicuous several  miles  ofT,  and  glitter  in 
the  sun  with  their  Cathedral,  College,  and 
Church-spires.  To  the  early  Jesuits  the 
site  was  familiar,  for  the  St.  Francis  was 
the  old  water-way  from  New  England  to 
Three  Rivers  and  Quebec.  The  local  an- 
nals have  been  collected  by  Mrs.  C.  M. 
Day  and  by  the  Rev.  P.  Girard,  Superior 
of  the  Sdminairc  St.   Charlcs-Borromdc. 

Just  above  its  confluence  with  the  Si, 
Francis,  the  river  Magog  descends  a  hun 
dred  and  fourteen  feet  in  little  more  than 
half  a  ii'ile.  The  inevitable  saw-mill,  ami 
grist-mill,  cwid  carding-mill  appeared  at  the 
beginning  of  the  present  century  ;  ami 
around  this  nucleus  a  hamlet  gathered,  which,  in  1817,  was  visited  and  paternally 
adopted  i)y  the  Governor.  Sir  John  Sherbrooke.  A  distinct  impulse  was  giv(Mi  to  its 
growth  when  Sherbrooke  became  headquarters  for  the  British-American  Land  Com- 
pany, which,  chartered  in  1833,  was  a  prime  instrument  in  opening  out  the  beautiful 
wilderness  of  the  Eastern    Townships.     In  its  boundless  water-power,  and  in  the  fertility 


Sl'KlNG    i"i;rns. 


SOUTHEASTERN  QUEBEC 


^11 


of  the  district,  Siierbrooke  has  enduring  resources.  Its  manufactures  are  already  very 
extensive,  some  of  the  factories  reaching  the  size  of  villages.  The  educational  insti- 
tutions are  well-equipped  and  efficient.  Commercial  Street  is  the  chief  thoroughfare. 
At  the  farther  end,  the  street  fades  into  a  perspective  of  pretty  villas.  Melbourne 
Street  makes  a  delightful  promenade,  with  its  fine  residences  and  flower-gardens,  and 
its  charming  river-views. 

Throughout  the  Eastern  Townships,  but  most  of  all  in  Missisquoi,  Stanstead,  and 
Compton,  there  is  a  robust  strain  of  the  early  Massachusetts  pioneer.  At  the  epoch 
of  the  Great  Divide,  not  a  few  Loyalists  followed  the  old  flag,  and  settled  a  little 
beyond  the  "  Province  Line."  Picking  up  the  disused  axe  with  a  sigh — often  with  a 
secret  tear — they  once  more  hewed  out  for  themselves  homes  in  the  forest.  They 
l)rought  across  the  frontier,  with  their  old  Hebrew  names,  the  pith  and  industry,  and 
intense  earnestness  of  the  Puritan.  They  transplanted  to  Canadian  soil  that  old  farm- 
life  of  New  England,  which,  by  its  quaint  ways,  has  stirred  so  many  delightful  fancies 
in  American  novelists  and  poets.  Such  fire-light  pictures  and  winter-idylls  as  Hawthorne 
and  Whittier  love  to  paint,  were  here  to  be  seen  of  a  winter  evening  in  every  snow- 
bound farmstead.  Among  the  dusty  heirlooms  of  these  Township  homesteads  may 
still  be  found  andirons  that  stood  on  early  New  England  hearths.  Burned  out 
and  fallen  to  ashes  are  the  last  forestick  and  back-leg  ;  and  so  are  that  brave  old 
couple  who,  in  their  gray  hairs,  wandered  into  the  Canadian  wilderness,  and.  with 
trembling  hands,  hung  the  old  crane  over  a  new  hearth. 


'38 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE   AND   CHARACTER 


LAKE    MEMPHRF.MAGOG,    FROM    OWI.'S    HEAD. 


MOXTREAL:    HISTORICAL   .LVD  DESCRIPTI]'E 


'39 


A     GMMl'SK    KROM    THK    MOUNTAIN. 

MONTREAL 

'T^HKRE    is    no   more  beau- 
-*■      tiful  city  on  the  continent 
of  America  than   the    commer- 
cial  metropolis  of  the   Dominion  of  Canada.     The  geographical  features  of    the    place  at 
once    suggest    a    city.      Ocean-going    steamers    can    navigate  the   river    St.     Lawrence    no 
farther  inland,   but  here    where  insuperable    difficulties  stop  navigation,   nature  has    made 
it   possible   for    human    skill    to    produce   a    magnificent    harbour.       Lying,  between    the 


140 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


141 


river  and  Mount  Royal,  rarely  has  it  been  the  good  fortune  of 
any  city  to  have  so  fine  a  background.  The  Hat  part,  situated 
at  the  base  by  the  river  side,  makes  it  easy  for  business ; 
the    sloping   sides  of   the   mountain   are    intended,   perhaps,   to 

meet  the  modern   idea  that   prosperity 
shall    build    in   the  west   end,   and 
abundance  in   some  overlook- 
ing heights.     That  which  was 
natural    happened ;      the 
city   has   extended   west- 
ward   and    along 


the  mountain  side 
— that    is    to    say, 
wealth  used  its  un- 
doubted   right    to 
erect  its  dwelling- 
places  up  the  river 
where     the    water 
is  clear,  and  up  the  moun- 
tain where  the  air  is  pure. 
Reaching    the    city    by 
way  of   the    St.    Lawrence, 
the  eye  rests  upon  a  scene 
of  rare  beauty  ;  three  miles 
of     river     frontage    turned 
into  wharves ;     shipping   of 
every  kind  and  description, 
from    the  enormous    steam- 
ship   to    the    tiny    pleasure 
yacht ;    back    of  that,    long- 
lines  of   warehouses- ;    then, 
great  public  and  p  "vate  buildings,  church 
spires    and    towers   asserting    their   right 
to  be    higher  than    all    other    structures, 
and    thus    bid    the  busy  world    pause   at 
times  and  look  up.      But    the    finest    view  of   the   city  can    be  had  from    the 


L'ESCALIER. 


mountam. 


142  IiaiXCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

The  top  is  reached  by  a  winding  path  or,  if  the  traveller  choose,  by  steps  sujj^gestive 
of  lunj^s  and  nerves,  and  a  swimminij^  head  and  death  by  fallinjj^.  The  view  from  the 
summit,  however,  is  well  worth  the;  climb,  whichever  way  may  be  chosen.  The  city 
lies  at  the  base;  the  majestic  vSt.  Lawrence  may  be  traced  for  miles.  Just  ojjposite  it 
is  spanned  by  the  i^^reat  Victoria  liridj^e,  one  mile  and  three-cjuarters  lon_(,r,  built  b)- 
Stephenson  and  Brunei,  and  openeil  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  in  1861.  Heyond  the 
river  is  a  vast  stretch  of  land  absolutely  flat,  bounded  by  ranges  of  hills  among  which, 
conspicuous,   rise  the  twin   mountains  of    St.    Milaire. 

Montreal  abounds  with  striking  contrasts.  The  city  is  comparatively  small — 
less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  inhabitants — as  what  was  called  "the  census" 
has  declared.  It  has  had  only  one  or  two  hundred  years  of  history  ;  and  yet  every- 
thing is  here — the  antique  and  the  modern — u'hile  hostile  oddities  lie  cheek-by-jowl 
on  every  hand.  Here  are  frame  houses,  some  of  them  scarcely  better  than  an 
Irishman's  hovel  on  his  native  bog,  and  ignorance  and  squalour  and  dirt ;  close  at 
hand  are  great  streets  of  great  houses,  all  of  fine-cut  stone.  Here  are  thousands  of 
French  who  cannot  speak  one  word  of  English,  and  thousands  of  English  who  cannot 
speak  one  word  of  French.  Unthrift  and  thrift  come  along  the  same  thoroughfares. 
Some  are  content  with  a  bare  existence  and  some  are  not  content  with  colossal  for- 
tunes. In  social  life  we  have  the  old  French  families  with  their  Old  U'orld  refinement 
pressed  upon  and  almost  pushed  out  of  e.xistence  by  the  loud  manners  of  the  nouvcaux 
riches.  The  older  houses  have  their  heirlooms  of  gold  trinkets  and  silver  plate ;  the 
new  houses  have  their  art  galleries  of  elaborate  picture-frames,  the  meanest  of  which 
would  honour  Cellini,  and  gladden   the   eyes  and    heart  of  a  solid   Manchester  man. 

We  have  the  same  striking  contrasts  in  the  appearance  of  the  people  on  the  streets. 
Here  are  unmistakable  descendants  of  the  ancient  Iroquois  Indians;  at  a  turn  we  come 
upon  a  company  who,  by  their  dress  and  talk,  take  us  back  to  the  peasant  classes  of 
older  France  ;  while  crowding  everywhere  are  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  most  approved 
modern  type,  according  to  the  fashions  of  London,  Paris,  and  New  \'ork.  The 
business  of  the  place  shows  the  same  quaint  differences.  At  one  market  we  are  in 
an  exclusively  agricultural  district  ;  there  is  nothing  to  suggest  a  ship,  a  warehouse,  or  a 
factory  ;  buyers  and  sellers  are  country  people  with  country  ways,  except  that  now  and 
then  a  lady  from  the  more  aristocratic  parts  ventures  to  go  a-marketing  in  the  interests 
of  economy.  Our  illustration  represents  what  may  be  seen  in  one  of  the  principal 
squares  of  the  city  on  a  market  day.  All  the  streets  round  the  I3onsecours  Market 
are  crowded  with  carts  filled  with  country  produce,  and  the  overflow  finds  its 
way  into  Jacques  Cartier^  Square.  The  horses  feeding  peacefully  as  they  would 
beside  a  country  hostelry,  primitive  carts  and  harness,  the  habitant  piously  com- 
mitting his  horse  or  his  basket  to  the  care  of  God  while  he  slips  into  the  old 
church    to   say    a  prayer,   are    not    the    pictures    one    expects   to    find    in    a   great   city 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


•43 


COMMISSIONER'S    WHARK,    AND    BONSECOURS 
MARKET. 


in  the  restless  New  World.  A 
very  little  way  to  the  west,  you 
are  in  a  different  latitude.     Signs  of 


commerce  and  modern  taste  and 
industrial  life;  abound.  Here  is  a 
corner  where  we  look  into  \'ictoria 
Square.  The  crowded  streets,  the 
magnificent  cut-stone  shops,  hotels 
and  warehouses,  the  well-appointed 
hall  and  rooms  of  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association  —  the 
oldest  Association  of  the  kind  in 
America,- — the  beautiful  Kirk,  Sal- 
isbury Cathedral  in  miniature,  the 
bronze  statue  of  the  Queen  by 
Marshall  Wood,  all  reflect  the  nine- 
teenth century.  What  surprises  the 
visitor  is  the  sharp  distinction  so 
long  maintained.  The  new  does 
not  shoulder  the  ancient  out  of  the  way-does  not  even  modify  it.  They  move  along 
p:>rr.llel    lines,   neither   affecting   the  other.       There    is    no    fusion    of    races   in    commer- 


Br-NSFCOURS    CHURCH. 


144 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


•  .■iiriiriiiiiriiiiHmim(i' 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL  AND   PftSCRIPTH'E 


145 


( i;il,    social    or    political    life ;    the 

differences     are     sharply    defined, 

and     appear     to     be     permanent. 

ll    must    be    confessed     that     this 

ailds      to     the     interest     of     the 

city,     and     enables     the     curious 

to    study    human     life    and    work 

under    a    variety    of     aspects.        But    we    must    turn    now     to    a    closer    description    of 

I)''ople    and    places    and    their    history. 

The  his'tory  of  Montreal  is  an  eventful  one,  and  full  of  interest.  The  site  was  first 
visited  by  Jacques  Cartier,  the  discoverer  of  Canada,  on  the  2d  October,  1535.  The 
.'Mc^onquin  village  of  twelve  hundred  inhabitants  was  then  named  Hochelaga,  and  the 
1  renchman  was  well  received,  supplies  of  fish  and  maize    being    freely    offered  in  return 


I4&  FREXCff  CAh'APfAX  IJFR   AND   CffARACTER 

for  beads,  knives,  small  mirrors  and  crucifixes.  Hochela|^a  was,  even  in  those  days,  a 
centre  of  importance,  havin<j  ei^ht  or  ten  settlements  subject  to  it.  Nothinj,'  more  was 
heard  of  it,  however,  till  1611,  when  Champlain  left  Quebec  for  Hochelaga,  with  the 
intention  of  establishinjj;^  there  a  trading-station.  Temporary  structures  were  erected, 
ground  was  cleared  and  seeds  were  sown,  in  order  to  test  the  fertility  of  the  soil. 
Before  returning  to  Quebec,  Champlain  held  conferences  with  many  Indians — Hurons  and 
Algonquins — who  had  come  to  meet  him  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  present  Lachine 
Rapids.  Two  years  later,  Champlain  visited  llochelaga  again,  and  pushed  forward 
up  the  riv(;r  Qttawa  as  far  as  Lake  Nipissing.  It  was  not,  however,  till  1640 
that  a  permanent  establishment  was  attempted  on  the  island  of  Montreal.  In  that  year 
a  society,  designated  "  La  Compagnie  de  Montreal,"  was  formed  in  Paris  for  the 
promotion  of  religion  in  the  colony.  This  Company  consisted  of  about  thirty  persons 
of  wealth,  who  proposed  to  build  a  regular  town  and  prcUtxt  it  against  the  Indians  by 
means  of  fortifications.  Maisonneuve,  a  distinguished  and  pious  soldier  from  Cham- 
pagne, was  chosen  to  lead  the  expedition  and  direct  the  Company.  The  sanction  of 
the  King  of  France  having  been  obtained,  priests  and  families  were  sent  out,  and  on 
the  17th  of  May,  1642,  Villemarie  was  solemnly  consecrated.  The  spot  chosen  for  the 
ceremony  was  near  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 

Maisonneuve  was  a  great  man,  knightly  in  bearing,  brave  as  a  lion  and  devout  as 
a  monk.  Among  his  most  efficient  colleagues  was  d'Aillebout,  who  was  subse([uentl\ 
twice  Governor  of  New  France.  During  the  first  few  years  the  colony  of  \'illemarie 
barely  managed  to  subsist,  being  constantly  exposed  to  the  incursions  of  Indians.  On 
one  occasion,  in  1652,  a  small  band  of  I'renchmen  defeated  a  body  of  two  h'.mdred 
Irocjuois  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Montreal.  The  following  year  Maisonneuve 
returned  from  I'" ranee  with  three  vessels  and  upwards  of  a  hundred  soldiers.  In  1663, 
an  important  event  occurred,  the  "Company  of  Montreal"  having  sold  their  rights  to 
the  Seminary  of  Montreal,  wlio  have  ever  since  been  the  seigniors  of  the  island  and 
associated  with  ever)-  incident  of  its  history.  In  1672  the  population  of  Montreal  had 
reached  the  figure  of  1 500,  and  a  few  years  later  the  place  began  to  be  laid  out  into 
streets  within  a  ([uadrangular  space  surrounded  by  a  wall.  About  the  same  time  the 
village  of  Laprairie,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  was  founded  by  a  number  of 
converted  Iroquois,  and  later  they  migrated  a  little  farther  up  to  Caughnawaga,  where 
their  descendants  survive  to  this  day. 

The  Iroquois  were  the  allies  of  the  English  of  the  New  England  Colonies  and  the 
Dutch  on  the  Hudson,  as  the  Hurons  were  of  the  French  of  Canada;  and  the  wars 
between  these  two  savage  nations  naturally  involved  their  white  friends.  V-  1690  an 
expedition,  consisting  of  two  hundred  French  and  Indians,  set  out  from  Montreal  on 
snow-shoes,  and  fell  upon  a  Dutch  settlement  at  Schenectady,  putting  all  therein  to 
fire  and  sword.     In  retaliation,  a  force  of  thirteen  hundred  men,  under  General  Winthrop 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL   AND  DESCRIPTH'E  147 

and  Major  Schuyler,  was  equipped  for  a  movement  upon  Montreal,  by  the  way  of  Lake 
Champlain,  while  a  licet  was  dispatched  against  Quebec  under  the  command  of  Sir 
William  Phipps.  The  former  accomplished  nothing,  owing  to  the  difficulties  of  the 
march,  and  were  easily  repulsed  ;  while  the  defeat  of  the  latter  by  I'Vontenac  is  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  pages  of  the  history  of  New  F" ranee.  In  1700-01  a  great  peace  was 
concluded  at  Montreal  between  the  Iroquois  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Hurons,  Ottawas, 
Abnakis.  and  Algonquins  on  the  other.  This  did  not  prevent  works  of  defence  being 
carried  on,  ami  in  1722  a  low  stone  wall  was  erected,  with  bastions  and  outlets,  extending 
all  around  the  town.  The  population  of  Montreal  at  that  time  was  three  thousand. 
The  fortifications,  however,  were  available  only  against  the  Indians,  and  were  not  calcu- 
lated to  withstand  artillery,  as  the  events  of  fifty  years  later  clearly  proved.  In  1760, 
after  the  fall  of  Quebec  and  the  unsuccessful  attempt  of  Levis  to  recover  that  strong- 
hold, Montreal  became  the  last  station  of  I'rench  power  in  America,  and  it  is  therefore 
indissolubly  connected  with  the  closing  events  of  the  Conquest.  The  British  plan  of 
campaign  was  to  hem  Montreal  in  from  every  side.  With  that  view,  General  Murray 
moved  up  from  Quebec,  while  Colonel  Haviland  advanced  his  army,  composed  of  three 
thousand  regulars  and  provincials,  with  a  small  body  of  Indians,  from  Crown  Point  on 
Lake  Champlain,  and  up  the  Richelieu.  On  his  side  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst,  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief, set  out  from  Albany  and  passed  through  the  Iroquois  country,  now  the 
State  of  New  York,  as  far  as  Oswego,  where  he  took  boats  to  transport  his  men  across 
the  lower  part  of  Lake  Ontario  and  down  the  St.  Lawrence.  W^hen  he  reached  Lachine, 
Haviland  had  already  occupied  the  south  shore  of  the  river  opposite  the  city,  and  Murray 
was  master  of  the  territory  extending  to  the  foot  of  the  island.  Levis  had  fired  his 
last  musket,  X'audreuil  had  exhausted  all  his  diplomacy,  and  there  only  remained  to  be 
enacted  the  final  scene  of  Capitulation  whereby  the  fairest  colony  of  France  was  trans- 
ferred to  Great  Britain.  It  has  never  been  definitely  ascertained  at  what  particular  spot 
this  impressive  historical  event  took  place.  Most  historians  locate  it  at  the  Chateau  de 
Ramezay,  on  Notre  Dame  Street,  the  official  residence  of  Marquis  de  \^audreuil. 
Governor  and  Lieutenant-General.  There  is  a  local  tradition,  however,  that  the  Articles 
of  Surrender  were  signed  in  a  small  frame  house,  on  the  Cote  des  Neiges  road,  behind 
the  mountain,  which  was  unfortunately  destroyed  by  fire  only  a  few  years  ago.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  trace  the  general  history  of  the  city  from  this  point  of  the  Conquest  down 
to  our  day.  It  will  suffice  to  say  that  from  1760  to  1810,  Montreal  was  little  better 
than  a  frontier  outpost,  and  an  emporium  of  the  trade  of  peltries  with  the  Indians. 
Ill  the  succeeding  decade,  the  North-West  was  explored  by  a  number  of  hardy  adven- 
turers— the  Selkirks,  MacTavishes  and  others  penetrated  into  the  wilderness  ;  the  North- 
\\  est  Company  multiplied  its  stations  throughout  the  Red  River  valley,  and  Montreal 
became  the  headquarters  of  all  these  mighty  traders.  There  are  episodes  in  this  period 
of  the  history  of  Montreal,  up  to   1830,  which  have  the  charm  of  romance,  reminding  one 


148  F/U:XCff  C.WAD/.IX  LIFE  AXP   CHARACTER 

of  Its  ancient  days.  The  famous  voyas^citrs  and  courcurs  dc  boi's  are  I'ndissolubly  asso- 
ciated witli  the  city.  All  the  canoes  that  went  up  the  Ottawa,  thence  to  I'rcnch  River 
antl  Georj^nan  May.  to  Lake  .Su[)erior  and  on  through  innumerable  portajj;es.  to  Lake 
of  the  Woods  and  the  Winnipej^j  River  and  Lake  to  I'ort  Ciarry,  set  out  from  the  villa^^e 
of  Lachine,  it  is  true,  hut  they  were  all  laden  with  Montreal  freij^ht  and  propelled  by 
th(;  stalwart  arms  of  Montreal  oarsmen.  Then  came  the  ^reat  development  of  the 
lumber  trade,  which  ^ave  additional  importanc(?  to  Montreal  and  increased  its  wealth. 
This  trade  brouj^dit  the  whole  back  country  of  the  Upper  Ottawa  into  commercial  union 
with  the  city,  and  the  profitable  connection  has  continued  down  to  the  present  time. 
Toward  1840,  ste.imboat  navigation  was  introduced,  first  from  Montreal  to  (Juebec.  and 
afterwards  from  Montreal  to  the  principal  towns  of  Upper  Canada.  This  was  the  dawn 
of  the  era  which  was  gradually  to  enlarge  into  the  system  of  railways  and  steamships 
whereby  the  standard  position  of  Montreal  as  one  of  the  chief  cities  of  the  continent 
was  permanently  assured. 

It  is  easy  to  trace  the  two  main  divisions  of  the  population  of  Montreal.  Taking 
St.  Lawrence  Main  Street  as  a  dividing  line,  all  that  is  east  of  it  is  French,  and  all 
that  is  west  of  it  is  English-speaking.  The  two  nationalities  scarcely  overlap  this  con- 
ventional barrier,  except  in  a  few  isolated  cases.  And  other  external  characteristics  of 
the  French  population  are  as  distinct  as  their  language.  The  houses  are  less  pre- 
tentious, though  cpiite  comfortable,  and  there  is  a  general  absence  of  ornament  or  of 
surrounding  plantations.  The  extreme  eastern  portion  is  designated  the  Quebec 
suburbs,  and  there  the  native  people  can  be  studied  as  easily  as  in  the  rural  villages, 
from  which  the  majority  hail.  They  are  an  honest,  hard-working  race,  very  gay  and 
courteous,  and  of  primitive  simplicity  of  life.  Their  thrift  is  remarkable,  and  they 
manage  to  subsist  on  one  half  o(  what  would  hardly  satisfy  the  needs  of  people  of 
other  nationalities.  The  old  folks  speak  little  or  no  English,  but  it  is  different  with 
the  rising  generation.  These  use  the  two  languages  indifferently,  and  herein  possess 
a  marked  advantage  over  the  English,  Scotch  and  Irish.  Within  late  years  also,  they 
have  learned  to  husband  their  resources.  They  have  in  their  midst  a  flourishing  branch 
of  the  City  and  District  Savings  Bank,  a  number  of  building  societies  and  two  or  three 
benevolent  guilds.  Their  poor  are  cared  for  by  the  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  Association, 
which  has  several  ramifications,  and  the  Union  St.  Joseph  is  devoted  to  the  relief  cf 
artisans    during    life,   and    of    their  families  after  death. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  hoarded  wealth  among  the  French  inhabitants,  but 
as  a  rule  they  do  not  invest  it  freely.  They  have  among  them  some  of  the  richest 
men  in  the  city  who,  however,  are  modest  in  their  wants,  and  make  no  display  either 
in  the  way  of  sumptuous  mansions  or  gaudy  equipages.  Although  extremely  hospita- 
ble and  fond  of  society,  they  are  not  in  the  habit  of  giving  balls  or  fancy  entertain- 
ments, their  evenings   being   spent  mostly  in  mutual  visits,  where  a  quiet  game  of  cards 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRirTIlR 


149 


"      ^>^' 


ONi>«.- 


;■(»-** 


>^i»J5^ 


iV.'*''"^'  V**       .'    w 


^^^ 


?■<?** 


r^  I,  * 


-    ...    ...  -..x^^ 


*:-.•>  >"^\-^', 


MOUNTAIN     UKIVt:. 


r:^-**". .  A- 


■./I 


^M 


^)' 


^--  ••  • 


ijn'clominates.       As    in    Paris    so    in  ,,«m.»=^  .  >. .        ... 

Montreal,  it  is  not  c'as\'  to  obtain  '"V^^f^^V^-^^r^.  ligiy 
access  into  the  inner  I*"rench  circles  ; 
but  once  initiated,  the  strani^er  is  aj^reeably  sur- 
prised at  the  amount  of  ^race  and  culture  which 
lie  meets.  It  is  a  current  mistake  that  his^dier 
(■(.hication  is  uncommon  ainont;;-  these  people.  The 
<;ift  of  conversation  is  almost  universal  ;  the  best 
topics  of  art  and  literature  are  freely  discussed, 
and  ladies  are  familiar  with  political  questions. 

The  v.'''stern  part  of  the  city  is  English.  By 
this  term  is  meaut  all  those  whose  vernacular  is  our  mother-tongue.  Numerically,  the 
llnglish  portion  is  not  so  great  as  the  Scotch,  who  unquestionably  take  the  lead  in 
commerce,  finance  and  public  enterprise  generally.  In  perhaps  no  section  of  the  Colo- 
nies have  Englishmen  and  Scotchmen  made  more  of  their  opportunities  than  in 
Montreal.  There  is  an  air  of  prosperity  about  all  their  surroundings  which  at  once 
impresses   the    visitor.     Taken  all  in  all,    there    is   perhaps  no  wealthier  city  area  in  the 


IV' r 


•'X 


ISO 


FREXCII  CAXAPIAX  LIFE   AND   ClfARACTER 


world  than  that  comprised  between  Heaver  Hall  Hill  and  the  foot  of  Mount  Royal, 
and  between  the  parallel  lines  of  Dorchester  and  Sherbrooke  Streets  in  the  West  Knd. 
Sherbrooke  Street  is  scarcely  surpassed  by  the  Fifth  Avenue  of  New  York  in  the 
magnificence  of  its  buildini^s.  The  j^^rounds  include  demesne  and  park,  the  charms 
of  the  country  amid  the  rush  and  roar  of  a  ^reat  commercial  centre.  In  winter 
the  equipages  present  a  most  attractive  spectacle.  It  has  been  said  that  in  this 
respect  only  St.  Petersburjj;  can  claim  precedence  over  Montreal.  A  favourite  drive 
on  X  Saturday  afternoon  in  winter  is  from  X'ictoria  Square  to  Nelson's  Column  and 
back,  the  sumptuous  sleij^hs  of  every  description,  drawn  by  high-steppers,  and  bear- 
ing lovely  women  ensconced  in  the  richest  furs  of  the  Canatiian  forest,  following 
each  other  in  endh^ss  succession.  There  is  also  a  winter  driving  club,  which  peri- 
odically starts  from  the  iron  gates  of  McGill  College  and  glides  like  the  wind  alonsj 
the  country  roads  to  a  hospitable  rendezvous  at  Sault  aux  Recollet,  Lachine  or  Longue 
Po;nte,  where  a  bounteous  repast  and  a  "  hop "  are  provided.  The  return  home  under 
the  moon  and  stars  is  the  most  enjoyable  feature  of  the  entertainment,  and  many  a 
journey  through  life  has  been  initiated  by  these  exhilarating  drives. 

The  extreme  south-western  portion  of  the  city  is  occupied  almost  exclusively  by  the 
Irish  population.  It  is  called  Griffintown,  from  a  man  of  that  name  who  first  settled 
there  and  leased  a  large  tract  of  ground  from  the  (irey  Nuns  for  ninety-nine  years.  (3ver 
sixty  years  of  this  lease  have  already  expired,  so  that  in  about  twenty-fi''e  or  thirty  years 
the  ground  rent  of  this  immense  section  will  revert  to  the  nuns.  Griffintown  comprises  a 
little  world  within  itself — shops,  factories,  schools,  academies,  churches  and  asylums.  The 
Irish  population  of  Montreal  take  a  high  stand  in  business,  politics  and  society.  They 
number  in  their  ranks  many  successful  merv^hants  and  large  capitalists,  and  have  leading 
representati\'es  in  all   the  learned  professions. 

Th(!  islantl  of  Montreal  is  the  most  fertile  area  in  the  Province  of  Quebec,  and  is 
specially  renownetl  for  its  fruit,  the  J'otNiiu-  (ir/si\  quec^n  of  russets,  and  the  incom- 
parable Fdiiiciisc,  growing  with  a  perfection  obtainable  nowhere  else.  It  is  thickh 
settled,  being  studded  with  thri\ing  villages  and  rich  farms.  It  is  about  thirty  miles 
long  and  ten  broad,  and  is  formed  by  the  contluenc  of  the  Ottawa  with  tlu;  St.  Law- 
rence at  Ste.  Anne's,  in  the  western  extremity,  and  by  the  meeting  of  the  same  rivers 
at  Pout  de  I'lsle.  on  the  eastern  verge.  The  Ottawa  behind  the  island  is  called  Riviere 
des  Prairies  by  the  P'rench,  while  the  English  have  adopted  the  more  prosaic  title  of 
Pack  River.  About  the  midtlle  of  its  course-  is  a  rapid  known  as  .Sault  aux  Recollet.  so 
called  from  a    Recollet   missionary  who  perished  there  in   the  days  of    the   Iroquois. 

The  city  is  bountifully  ])roviiled  with  summer  resorts  and  retreats  within  easy 
distance  by  rail  and  river.  Lachine  anil  Ste.  Anne's  have  long  been  favourites  among 
these,  being  admirably  fitted  by  nature  for  boating  an.tl  fishing  purposes.  They  contain 
many  charming  villas  and  country   houses,      St.   Lambert,   immediately  opposite  the  city, 


MOXTREAL:    If/STOR/CU,   .L\/)   PliSCRIPTH'E 


'5' 


is  ji^rowins^  in  estimation  from  year  to  y(;ar.  An  old  stopping-place  is  Longueuil, 
a  little  below  St.  Lambert,  which  has  long  had  a  considerable  English  colony,  and  is 
still  a  favourite  resort  in  summer.  Xo  institution  pays  so  well  as  the  Longueuil  I'erry, 
for  a  great  deal  of  the  traffic  from  the  fertile  cc)unties  of  Chambly  and  Laprairie  comes 
l)y  it  to  the  city.  The  (juiet  bay  in  front  of  the  village  is  the  roadstead  for  tlie  craft 
of  the  Longueuil  \'acht  Club,  whose  record  stands  high  in  aquatic  annals.  Within  an 
hour's  ride  is  Chambly,  situate  on  a  basin  of  the  same  name,  which  forms  part  of 
the  beautiful  Richelieu  River.  Directly  opposite  tower  the  basaltic  pillars  of  lielteil 
Mountain,  one    of    the    most    picturescjue    spots    in   Canada,   on     whose    summit    ;<    lovely 


TUi;     I.ONGUKUH.     IKKKV. 


lake  mirrors  the  sky — a  spot  resorted  to  by  scores  of  families  whose    heads  are    able  to 
come    anci    go,    to   and  from  the  city,   without  detriment  to  their  business. 

In  the  way  of  parks  and  pleasure-grounds  Montreal  is  singularly  fortunate.  There 
is  a  Mountain  Park  and  an  Island  Park,  both  of  which  may  fairly  claim  to  be  unri- 
valled. The  former  cost  the  city  nearly  half  a  million  of  dollars,  but  is  well  worth 
the  money.  The  drive  round  it  is  a  favourite  afternoon  recreation  for  citizens  and 
visitors.  It  ascends  from  the  south-eastern  base  of  Mount  Royal,  by  curves  that  are 
sometimes  like  corkscr(nvs,  to  the  highest  altitude,  whence  a  magnificent  panorama  is 
i'uts])read,  including  the  whole  island  of  Montreal,  the  fair  Richelieu  peninsula,  the 
lilue  waters  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  the  undulating  line  of  the  Green  Mountams  of 
\'erniont.  Our  illustration  on  page  149  shows  the  Nuns'  Island  above  the  \'ictoria 
'•lidge,  a  beautiful   islet    that    owes  its  name  to   its  ownership.       This   Mountain   Park    is 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


\'^ 


X 


1 

i 


«i 


ni 


P: 


J 


.'il 


still    in     its    native     ruggedncss,    and    it 

will    take    years  before   it  is    completed, 

accordingly  to   a  scientific  plan  embracinj^ 

fy     "liailSlft   iHBH^i^'-i  'iS^I  tracts    of    landscape-gardening,     relie\ed 

by  spaces  of  woodland,  glade  antl  pri- 
m  eval  forest.  It  is  intended  also  to 
have  preserves  for  game  and  wild  ani- 
nK'.ls.  The  Island  Park  is  St.  Helen's 
Island,  in  thi;  middle  of  the  ri\er.  and 
in  it,  within  reach  of  sling  or  arcpiebuse, 
Montreal  j)ossesses  a  pleasure  resort 
nowhere  e.xcelled.  St.  Helen's  Island 
has  a  romantic  history.  Champlain's 
wife,  Helen  Bouille,  took  a  fancy  to  it, 
bought  it  with  the  contents  of  her  own 
purse,  and  in  return  Champlain  gave  il 
her  name.  Later,  it  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Le  Moyne  family,  and  became 
incorporated  in  their  seigniory  of  Lon 
gueuil.  rinally,  it  was  purchased  by  the 
Imperial  Government    for  military   purposes,    and  barracks   were  erected  thereon.      After 


z 


■A 

z 


t/) 


O 


2 

O 


MOXTREAL:    IflSTORlCAI.   AND   DESCRIPTn'E 


153 


the  departure  of  the  British  troops  from  the  country,  the  property  was  passed  over  to 
the  Federal  Government,  who  leased  it,  on  certain  conditions,  to  the  city  for  park  pur- 
poses. Looking  at  it  from  the  city  one  has  no  idea  of  its  heijj^ht  in  the  centre.  It  slopes 
upward  from  the  water's  edj^e,  and  thus  affords  a  capital  military  position,  as  ma\'  Ix;  seen 
at  a  glance  in  our  illustration  of  the  Old  Battery.  The  same  feature  makes  it  one  of  the 
best  possible  points  from  which  to  get  a  view  of  the  cit)-,  especially  of  the  harljour  and 
long-extentled    line   of    wharves  and    docks,  with    the  mountain   towering  up  in   the   back- 


OLO     BATTERY,     ST.     HELEN'S     ISLAM). 


grounil.  In  the  fall  of  1760,  the  island  was  the  scene  of  a  dramatic  incident.  The 
Chevalier  de  Levis,  who  defeated  Murray  at  the  battle  of  Ste.  l-'oye  in  the  summer 
nf  that  year,  and  would  have  recaptured  Quebec  and  retrieved  the  disaster  of  me 
Plains  of  Abraham,  had  not  a  Hritisli  tleet  suddenly  arrived  under  the  shadow  of 
Cape  Diamond,  was  obliged  to  retreat  towards  Montreal,  whither  he  was  soon  followed 
iiy  Murray  and  Amherst.  The  I'Vench  had  to  bow  to  the  inevitable,  and  X'audreuil 
signed  the  articles  of  capitulation.  Meantime  Levis,  who  had  retired  to  St.  Helen's 
Island,  sent  a  Hag  of  truce  to  Murray,  to  request  the  surrender  of  his  troops  with  the 
iionours   of   war.       For    some    ine.xpiicable    reason    this   demand    was    not    granted,    and 


154  FR/:\CI/  C.L\\l/)/AX   1.11- 1-    AXI^    CIlARAC'irR 

the  hi_t,rh-min(l('(I  I'rcnchman  construed  the  denial  into  an  insult.  When  the  shadows 
of  nigin  had  fallen,  and  the  foliai^^e  of  the  jjjreat  trees  intensified  the  darkness,  he 
j^^athered  his  men  in  the  centre  of  the;  island  around  a  pyn^  of  hla/ini;  wootl.  At  the 
woril  of  cominanil  the  colours  \V('re  lroo])(Hl.  tlu'  staffs  hrokiMi,  and  the  whole  thrown 
into  the  tire,  while  the  drums  Iteat  to  arms,  and  the  veterans  cried  "\'i\e'  la  I'Vance  ! " 
with  the  anj^uish  of  (.lespair.  '\\\(:  nc'Xt  morning'  the  remnant  of  the'  I'rench  arnn 
tiled  before  th(,'ir  contjutM'ors  ami  piled  their  arms,  but  ne\er  a  shred  (jf  the  white 
tiag  was    then;,   to    deepen   their  humiliation. 

Chief  among  the  public  scpiares  and  garilens  (jf  Montreal,  in  5ize  and  in  historic 
interest,  is  the  Cham|)  dt;  Mars.  In  1S12,  the  citadel  or  mound  on  the  present  site  of  Dal- 
housie  Scpiare  was  demolished,  and  the  (;arth  of  which  it  was  composetl  was  carried  o\'er 
and  strt;wn  upon  the  Champ  d(;  .Mars.  This  fact,  within  the  memory  ot  the  oklesi 
inhabitants,  has  led  some  people  to  suppose  that  the;  bield  of  Mars  tlates  onl\-  from  that 
comparativel)'  late  period.  .Such,  however,  is  not  the  fact.  Xo  doubt  the  dum[)ing  ot 
so  much  new  earth,  with  proper  levelling  and  rolling,  was  a  great  improvement  ;  but 
the  site;  antl  general  outlincis  of  the  ground  itself  belong  to  a  higher  anticpiity.  The 
Champ  was  a  scene  of  promenade  in  the  okl  brench  days,  and  many  is  the  goUlen 
suns(!t  that  fired  the  leafy  cylinders  of  its  Lombardy  po[)lars,  as  beaux,  with  peaked 
hats  and  purple  doublets,  sauntered  under  their  graceful  ranks  in  the  company  ot 
short-skirted  damsels.  The  chief  glory  of  the  Champ  de  Mars  is  its  military  histor\-. 
With  the  single  exception  of  the  I'lains  of  Abraham,  there  is  no  other  piece  of 
o-round  in  America  which  has  been  successivelv  troilden  bv  the  armies  of  so  man\-  dif- 
ferent  nations  in  martial  array.  First,  it  witnessed  the  evolutions  of  the  blue-coatc'd 
Frenchmen — probably  such  historical  regiments  as  those  of  Carignan  and  Roiisillon — and 
its  sands  were  crunched  by  the  hoofs  of  chargers  that  bore  Montcalm  and  Levis. 
Then  the  serried  ranks  of  red-coats  paraded  from  the  days  of  Murra\-  and  Carleton. 
It  were  worth  while  to  know  how  many  regiments  of  the  Hritish  army  ha\f',  at  one 
time  or  another,  turned  out  on  the  Champ  de  Mars.  Next,  for  about  six  months,  the 
ground  was  useil  by 

"Tiic  coci<t'(l-ti,\t  Continentals, 
In  tlieir   r.ijjgi'd   regimentals;" 

rr.any  of  whom  went  forth  therefrom  to  defeat  and  death  under  the  cliffs  at  Quebec, 
with  the  heroic  Montgomery.  And  now  it  is  the  parade-ground  of  our  Canadian  \'olini- 
teers.  The  illustration  gives  us  a  si)ecimen  of  the  \'ictoria  Rifles,  on(;  of  Montreal's 
crack  regiments.  Th<'  buildings  shown  are  the  rear  of  the  Hotel  de  \'ille  and  of  th'' 
Court  House;  then  the  twin  towers  of  the  jjarish  church,  which  are  seen  from  almost 
every  point  of  view ;  and  next  to  them  the  side  of  the  modest  little  Presbyterian  Church 
called  St.   Gabriel's,  which  is  given    below    in    its    full    dimensions.       This    is    the    oldest 


MOXTR/:.}/.:  insroRicAL  Axn  nnscRirrn'H 


155 


Protestant  Church  standing 
in  Montreal,  ami  lon^^  may 
it  stand,  for  it  preserves  the 
memor\'  of  Christian  cour- 
tesies between  tiire(.'  l(!ad- 
in^'  Christian  communions. 
While  the  clun'ch  was  heintr 
built,  the  ticood  old  Re'collet  Fathers  ofTered  the  coni^rejji^ation  the  use  of  their  chapel 
to  worship  in.  The  sturtly  Scotchmen  accepted  the  offer,  and  when  they  mo\('d  into 
their  own  kirk  presented  the  bathers  with  a  hogshead  of  Canary  wine  and  two  boxes 
of  candles.  SubsetpuMitly,  when  the  Aui^lican  church  was  burnt,  the  PresbyKTians— 
doubtless  remembering  how  they  had  been  intlebted  to  others — came  forward  jiromptly 
and    put    St.   Gabriel's    at    the    entire    disposal    of    the    Anglicans    for    the  half  of    every 


'56 


FREXai  CANADIAX  L/F/i  AND   CHARACTER 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL  AiVD  DESCRIPTIVE  157 

Sunday,  until  their  church  could  be  rebuilt.  This  offer  was  accepted  as  graciously 
IS  it  was  made,  and  thus  St.  (iabriel's  is,  in  itself,  a  monument  equal  in  interest  to 
uiything  in    Montreal. 

Historically,  the  Place  ilWrmes  is  even  more  interesting.  As  it  stands  at  present, 
there  are  few  more  charming  spots  in  Canada,  framed  in  as  it  is  by  the  Corinthian 
portico  of  the  Montreal  Bank,  the  Ionic  colonnade  of  the  City  Bank  -now  the  buildings 
jf  the  Canada  Pacific  Railway  Companj,  -and  the  towers  of  Notre  Uame.  Our  view  is 
taken  from  Notre  Dame,  so  that  we  get  only  a  portion  of  the  Place  d'Armes  ;  but  while 
ive  lose  [)art  of  the  Place,  we  gain  a  glimpse  of  the  city  as  a  whole,  extending  away  to 
the  foot  of  the  mountains.  Ne.xt  to  the  Bank  of  Montreal,  with  its  beautiful  portico, 
stands  the  Post  Office.  Between  it  and  the  mountains  the  most  prominent  buildings  are 
St.  Mary's  College  and  the  Church  of  the  (rcsii,  which  attracts  Protestants  to  its  services 
by  good  music.  Farther  west  the  unshapely  pile  of  .St.  Patrick's  Cathedral  bulks  largely 
i)n  the  slope  of  Beaver  Hall.  The  garden  of  the  Place  d'Armes  is  very  beautiful  in 
summer,  with  its  young  trees  and  central  pyramidal  fountain  ;  but  in  winter  it  is  invested 
\\ith  a  particular  glory — for  the  place  is  the  coldest  spot  in  Montreal  at  all  seasons  of  the 
year — the  north-west  winds  streaming  from  the  mountain  in  that  direction  as  through  a 
Colorado  canon.  Its  histor\-  goes  back  to  the  earl\-  histor)-  of  the  city.  In  1643  '^■'•'-l 
1644,  the  Colony  of  X'illemarie — the  beautiful  ancient  n;;me  of  Montreal — was  practically  in 
a  state  of  siege,  owing  to  the  incursions  of  Indians.  The  noble  Maisonneuve  kept  on  the 
defensive  for  a  time,  until  he  was  remonstrated  with,  and  several  of  his  more  intluential 
followers  openly  charged  him  with  cowardice.  This  stirred  his  martial  spirit ;  he  deter- 
mined on  chanyfintr  his  tactics.  With  a  train  of  dogs  accustomed  to  scent  the  trail  of 
the  Iro([uois,  and  at  the  head  of  thirty  armed  men,  he  marched  out  in  the  direction  of 
the  mountain,  where  he  was  met  by  upwards  of  two  hundred  savages,  who  fell  upon 
liim  and  compelled  his  forces  to  retreat.  Maisonneuve  formed  the  rear-guard.  With  a 
pistol  in  each  hand,  he  walked  slowly  back,  and  never  halted  until  he  reached  the  present 
site  of  the  Place  d'Armes.  There,  when  the  French  had  repulsed  the  foe  and  gathered 
their  dead  and  wounded  they  understood  l)oth  the  valour  of  their  commandant  and  the 
wisdom  of  remaining  behind  the    shelter    of    their   fortifications. 

There  is  no  city  in  America  which  has  a  greater  number  of  public  institutions  of 
an  ecclesiastical,  educational,  or  charitable  character.  Chief  among  these  is  the  Church 
of  Notre  Dame,  the  largest  edifice  of  the  kind  in  America,  except  the  Cathedral  of 
•Mexico.  At  the  founding  of  X'illemarie,  a  temporary  chapel  of  bark  was  built  on 
■'  Pointe  a  Calliere,"  which  was  used  until  the  following  year,  when  a  wooden  structure 
was  raised  on  the  same  spot.  In  1654,  this  chapel  becoming  too  small,  M.  de  Maison- 
neuve suggested  the  construction  of  a  more  commodious  church  adjoining  the  hospital 
ill  St.  Paul  Street,  on  the  spot  where  stands  to-day  the  block  of  stores  belonging  to 
the    H6tel    Dieu.      Service    ^as    held    there    for    upwards  of  twenty  years.      In    1672,  the 


'58 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  /.//•/■    AN/)    CHAR  ACT  F.R 


foundations  of  a  more  spacious  ('diricc  were  laid  in  tlic  Place  d'Arnics,  and  tlic  ciiurch 
was  completed  in  167S.  This  lasted  till  iSj;,  when  liie  present  temple  was  ilevised, 
which,  on  th(;  15th  June,  1S29,  was  opened  for  public  worship  under  iIk-  auspices  of 
Mgr.  Lartiji^ue,  first  K.  C.  Bishop  of  Montn^al.  The  pile  was  intended  to  he 
a    representative    of    its   namesake,    Notre    Dame,   of     Paris.        Its    towers    are    227     feet 


in  height,  and  contain  a  peal  of 
eleven  bells,  unrivalled  on  this 
continent.  The  "(iros  Hourdon  " 
of  the  western  tower  is  numbered 
among  the  five  heaviest  bells  in 
the  world.  It  was  cast  in  Lon- 
don, weighs  24,780  pounds,  is  six  feet  high,  and  at  its  mouth  measures  eight  feet 
seven  inches  in  diameter.  The  nave  of  the  church,  including  the  sanctuarv,  is  220 
feet  in  length,  nearly  80  feet  in  height,  69  in  width,  exclusive  of  the  side  aisles, 
which  measure  25^  feet  each,  and  the  walls  are  five  feet  thick.  The  church  is 
capable  of  holding  12,000,  and  on  extraordinary  occasions,  when  chairs  are  used, 
15,000  persons.  The  twin  towers  of  Notre  Dame  stand  out  to  every  traveller  as  one 
of    the    notable    landmarks  of  Montreal. 


J/().V7/k'/-:,I/..-    historical   AXn   nHSCRlPTllI- 


159 


Other  churches  arc  so  numerous  that  Montreal,  like  Brooklyn,  has  been  tlenomi- 
nated  the  City  of  Churches.  Christ  Church  Cathedral,  on  St.  Catherine  .Street,  stands 
deservedly   first.      It  is  a  j^em  of  Gothic  architecture,   not  surpassed  hy  ('.race  Church,  of 

New  York.      It  is  built  of 


limestone,  dressed  with 
cream-coloured  sandstone, 
and  its  interior  fittings 
are  in  remarkably  good 
taste.  In  the  grounds  is 
a  monument  to  the  mem- 
ory of  Bishop  I'"ulford, 
one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished prelates  that 
ever  ruled  the  Church 
of  England  in  Canada. 
The  Presbyterians  have 
noble  edifices  in  .St. 
Paul's    and   .St.    Andrew's. 


I'UI.l'Il      (M-'     NOTRK     I).\Mi:. 


1  he  Methodists,  Unitarians,  Congregationalists  and  others  are  well  represented,  while 
the  Israelites  have  two  synagogues.  The  Jesuits  boast  of  a  church  which  is  an 
r\act  counter|)art  of  the  celebrated  (iesu,  of  Rome.  The  spirit  of  ambition  is  strong 
iii  the  Catholics.  The  late  Bishop,  Mgr.  Bourget,  commenced  the  task  of  erecting  a 
jH-similc  in   miniature  of  St.  Peter's.     The    architect  was  instructed  to  proceed  to   Rome 


i6o  FREiWClI  CANAD/AX  IJFH   AA7)    CUARACTER 

and  simply  reduce  St.  Peter's  to  exactly  one-third  of  its  actual  dimensions  and  reproduce 
it  in  that  fasliioii  in  Montreal.  Slowly  it  has  been  (growing  before  the  puzzled  eyes  of 
the  citizens,  and  stranj^ers  ask  with  wonderment    what    it    is,  or  is  likely  to  be. 

Not  only  are  the  charitable  institutions  of  Montreal  more  numerous  in  respect 
to  population  than  those  of  any  other  city  on  this  continent,  but  several  of  them 
belong  to  a  high  antiquit)'.  and  are  intimately  connected  with  salient  events  in  the 
history  of  New  France.  The  foundation,  for  instance,  of  the  Hotel  Dieu,  reads  like 
a  romance.  When  Maisonneuve  offered  his  services  to  the  "  Compagnie  de  Montreal," 
and  was  named  Governor  of  the  future  colony,  h(.'  was  sagacious  enough  to  understand 
that  his  scheme  stood  in  need  of  a  virtuous  woman  who  would  take  care  of  the  sick, 
and  superintend  the  distribution  of  supplies.  Such  a  person  should  be  of  heroic 
mould,  to  face  the  dangers  and  privations  of  the  wilderness.  What  gold  could  not 
purchase,  Providence  supplied  in  the  person  of  a  young  woman — Jeanne  Mance,  daughter 
of  a  procurcjir  du  roi,  near  Lamoges,  in  Champagne — who  was  impelled  by  an  irre- 
sistible vocation  to  the  missions  of  New  I'rance.  Queen  .\nne,  of  Austria,  and  several 
distinguished  ladies  of  the  Court,  apprised  of  her  merit  and  e.xtraordinary  resolution, 
encouraged  her  in  her  design  ;  and  Madame  Bouillon,  a  distinguished  lady  of  that 
period,  placed  means  at  her  disposal  for  the  establishment  of  an  hospital.  In  the 
summer  of  1641,  two  vessels  sailed  from  La  Rochelle,  one  bearing  Maisonneuve,  a 
priest  and  twenty-five  men — the  other  carrying  Mademoiselle  Mance,  a  missionary  and 
twelve  men.  The  winter  was  spent  at  Sillery,  near  Quebec.  On  the  opening  of 
navigation  in  1642,  a  small  flotilla,  consisting  of  two  barges,  a  pinnace  and  another 
boat,  moved  up  the  solitary  highway  of  the  .St.  Lawrence,  and  on  the  iSth  ALiy 
possession  was  taken  of  Montreal  by  the  celebration  of  a  solemn  mass.  The  two 
principal  persons  who  figured  at  the  ceremony  were  >Liisonneuve  and  Mademoiselle 
NLince  ;    and  thus  it  happened  that  a  woman  assisted   in   the   founding  of  this  great  city. 

Another  community  has  long  been  identified  with  the  history  of  Montreal.  The 
mission  of  the  Grey  Nuns  is  to  assist  the  poor,  visit  the  sick,  educate  the  orphan,  and 
enfold  with  maternal  arms  the  nameless  and  homeless  foundlinijf.  There  is  no  charitv 
more  beautiful  than  theirs,  and  hence  their  popularity  with  Protestants  as  well  as 
Catholics.  The  Order  was  founded  by  Madame  de  Zanille,  a  Canadian  lady,  belonging 
to  the  distinguished  families  of  Varennes  and  Boucher  de  Boucherville.  The  old  con- 
vent stood  for  many  years  on  Foundling  Street — named  thus  in  its  honour — opposite 
Ste.  Anne's  Market, — but  had  to  make  way  for  the  encroachments  of  trade,  and  has 
since  been  transferred  to  magnificent  buildings  on  Guy  Street.  The  Grey  Nuns  have 
spread  over  the  Province,  and  have  numerous  representatives  in  the  north-west,  as  far 
even  as  the   Upper  Saskatchewan. 

In  the  noble  work  of  charity,  the  Protestant  population,  although  numerically  far 
inferior,    has    more    than    held    its    own.       Notwithstanding    the    amplitude    of    its    accom- 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL   AND   fUiSCR/PT/J'E 


i6i 


modation,  the  General  Ilosi)ital  was  not  found  sufficiently  larj^e,  and  a  j^ood  citizen, 
Major  Mills,  established  another  in  the  extreme  west  vn^\,  whence  it  derives  its  name 
of  the  Western  Hospital.  It  has  been  said  that  charity  differs  from  trade  in  this, 
that   whereas   the    latter   is    always    in    direct    ratio    of    sup|>ly    to    demand,    the    former 

reverses  the  rule' ;    and  the    more   it  expands 
""■■"■  its    resources,    the    more    it    finds    objects    of 

' ; ',  misery    to    relieve.       The    principle   has    held 

/■  good  in   the    case    of    the   Western    Hospital, 

I  \   i.  lik'^.    \a^^'  which  has  been  crowded  from  its  opening  day. 

In     1 86,^    a    number    of    leading    citizens, 
realizing  the 
necessity    of        ^^^^^« 


■■'til.'iri 

■IS*!" 

'1     1  >i 

'       PI. 

!^.. 

j 

-  \ 

?' 

"T^f.    ■• 

m 

1' 

'V  i,   ■  i 

r,^^'>  \\ 


lik^-. 


p.') 


V'"  # . 


'^^: 


GATEWAY    OK     THK    SKMINAKV 
OK     ST.    SUU'ICE. 


\ 


'^iMm 


Mj 


a  peculiar  asylum  of 
help  for  the  Protestant 
poor  and  unfortunate 
— especially  the  aged 
and  feeble,  who  had 
no  means  of  livelihood 
— raised  upwards  of 
$8o,ooo,  with  which 
they  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  the  institution  called  the  IVotestant  House  of  Refuge  and  Industry.  The 
dual  character  of  the  population,  elsewhere  referred  to,  has  made  necessary  a  double 
sft  of  asylums  for  Protestants  and  Catholics,  which  accounts  for  the  extraordinary 
number  of  these  institutions,    as  compared   with   the    total    number  of  inhabitants. 


IN  THE  CHAPKL  OF  GREY  NUNNERY. 


l62 


IRIiiXCir  CANAPLW   /.//■/•    .I.\7>   CI fARACTI-li 


Chief  ;imoiij,f  the  educational  estahlishmtMits  of  Montreal  is  McGill  University,  whos'. 
history  embraces  several  features  that  deserve;  consiii(!ration.  lion.  James  McCiill,  "ho 
was  born  at  (jlasgow  in  1 744.  and  died  at  Montreal  in  1S13,  by  his  last  will  and  testa- 
ment devised  the  estate  of  Hurnside.  containin;,'  forty-seven  acres  of  land,  and  betjueathed 
a  larj^(!  sum  of  money  f(jr  the  ])urj)oses  of  this  foundation.  Tin;  University  was  erected 
by    Royal    Charter    in     1821,    and    reorganized    by   an   amended   Charter    in     1852.       Its 


CITY    HALL,     AND    NKLSON'S     MONUMI.NT. 

endowments,  (exhibitions  and  scholar- 
ships are  already  respectable.  The 
Molson  Chair  of  Kn>,dish  Language  and 
Literature,  the  Peter  Redpath  Chair 
of  Natural  History,  the  Logan  Chair 
of  Geology,  the  John  1  rothingham 
Chair  of  Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy, 
have  each  an  endowment  of  $20,000.  Students  attend  McGill  not  only  from  every 
Province  of  the  Dominion,  but  from  the  United  States.  It  counts  among  its  professors 
some  distinguished  scholars,  notably  Dr.  Dawson,  the  Principal,  whose  scientific  reputation 
is  world-wide.  Among  the  affiliated  institutions  are  Morrin  College,  Quebec  ;  St.  P'rancis 
College,  Richmond;  the  Congregational  College  of  British  North  America;  the  Presby- 
terian College  of  Montreal;   the   Diocesan  College  of  Montreal,  and  the  Wesleyan  College 


MoyTRF.ii.:  !fisroRic.\r.  .\\i)  Di'.scRirrn'h: 


163 


of  Montrt-al.       Under   the   rcjjfulations   for  th(."  estahlishiTXfnt   of   Normal   Schools    in    thr 
Province  of   Quebec,   the    Superintendt.'nt  of    lukication  is   enipowercd    to    associate  with 
himself,  for  the  direction  of   one  of    these  schools,  the  corporation  of  McGill    Iniversity. 
in  accordanct!  with    this  arrant^emcnt,   the    Pro- 
vincial    Protestant    Norma!   School    is  affiiiiated 
witii    McCJili,    and    for    tlu;    past    quarter    of    a 
((Mitiiry     lias     trained     teachers,     especiall\-     for 
the     I'rotestant     population     of     the      I'rovince. 
The     Model    Schools    attached    to    the    institu- 
tion are  three    in    nuinher     one    for    boys,    one 


ANCIENT    TOWERS    AT     MONTKKAI,    COLLKOK 


for  girls,  and  a  primary.  These  schools  are  capable  of  accommodatino;^  about  three 
iiundred  pupils  ;  are  supplied  with  the  best  furniture  and  apparatus  ;  and  are  conducted 
on  the  most  approved  methods  of  teachinj;-.  They  receive  jjupiis  from  the  age  of  six 
and  upwartls,  and  give  a  thorough  English  education.  There  are  two  high  schools — 
one   for    boys  and   another  for  girls — largely  attended. 

Montreal  College  and  St.  Mary's  College  are  Roman  Catholic  institutions.  The 
former  occupies  a  magnificent  site  on  Sherlirooke  Street,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
and  the  building  is  probably  the  largest  single  and  continuous  pile  in  America.  This 
institution    has    been    intimately    associated    with    the    history    of    Montreal    for    over    a 


164 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


hundred  years.  It  is  under  the  control  of  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice,  who  were 
made  seiij^niors  of  the  Island  of  .Monireal  and  its  environs  1)\-  Royal  Letters  Patent, 
in  1640.  The  Theological  Department  is  specially  remarkable,  and  has  been  the 
nursery  of  priests  and  missionaries  for  more  than  a  centur\'.  Its  students  are  from 
all  parts.  Chief  amontj  the  objects  of  interest  connected  with  the  collej^e  are  the 
two  round  towers  near  the  fjates,  which  tradition  traces  back  to  the  early  da\s  of 
the  colony,  when  they  were  built  as  outposts  of  defence  atjainst  the  red  men.  These 
towers  are  kept  in  a  perfect  state  of  preservation,  as  memorials  of  those  ancient  days 
of  peril. 

St.  Mary's  Collejj^e,  on  Bleury  Street,  is  under  the  direction  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers. 
and  their  boast  is  that  it  is  second  to  none  of  their  establishments  on  this  coiuinent. 
which  is  saxintx  a  jj^reat  deal  when  one  is  ac(iuaintetl  with  such  old  and  successful  coUetjes 
as  those  of  Fonlham,  N.  Y.,  Geory^etown.  I).  C,  and  .St.  Louis.  Mo.  Their  celebrated 
Ratio  Stiidioniiii  is  carried  out  to  the  letter,  and  the  results  deserve  attention,  bi.'causc 
the  methods  are  so  different  from  those  in  voj^iie  in  our  day.  The-re  is  tone  and  style 
in  everything  connt^cted  with  .St.  Mary's  College.  -Strangers  are  receivetl  with  the  utmost 
courlesy,  whether  they  visit  the  institution  itself  or  the  adjoining  Church  of  the  (.icsu, 
to  see   its  relics  of  saints  and   its  frescoes. 

A  secoml  Normal  .School  for  the  iM-eiuh  and  Catholics,  under  the  patronymic  ot 
Jacques  Cartier,  was  locatetl  from  its  foundation  in  the  oKl  Government  House  at 
Chateau  Ramezax',  opposite  the  Citv  Hall,  but  has  since  been  transferred  to  palatial 
quart(;rs  on  an  eminence  at  the  Last  T~nil.  I  he  management  is  almost  wholly 
ecclesiastical,  the  Principal  being  .Abbe  X'erreau,  distinguished  as  an  historian  anil 
antiquarian.  The  Catholic  Commercial  .Xcadi'ni}'  off  St.  Catherine  .Street,  is  the  onl\ 
institution  of  the  kiiul  in  the  Pro\ince  which  is  altogether  under  the  control  of  la\nieii. 
and   from   all   accoimts   it  has  met   with  complete?  success. 

'The  .\rt  .\ssociation  of  Montreal  was  inrorporali'd  in  1S5.S,  but  for  man\-  years  it 
had  but  a  languid  cxistt^nce.  The  late  liisho])  Tidfortl  (.Tul  much  to  encoiu-age  its  mem- 
bers, but  the  credit  of  h.iving  placed  the  societ\'  on  a  permanent  footing  is  due  to 
Henaiah  Gibb,  who  left  propertw  monc\,  and  a  ninnber  of  paintings  from  his  own  col- 
lection, to  form  a  gallerv.  ;\  suitable  buikling  has  been  erectetl  in  Phillips'  .S<piar(  . 
ar  d  the  art  gallery  was  recently  opened  li\-  His  L.xcellency  the  .Martpiis  of  Lome  ami 
11.    k.    II.    the    Princess    Louise. 

WhiU;  little  has  been  done  for  art.  less  has  been  clone  for  libraries.  The  Mi - 
chanics'  Institute  has  a  collection  of  books,  but  not  at  all  adecpiate  tf)  the  wants  I'f 
so  large  a  |)opulation.  .\  movement  is  at  present  on  foot,  tending  to  the  establishmeit 
of  a  pid)Iic  library  commensurate  with  the  size,  wealth  and  cidture  of  the  city.  In  truti 
money  was  left  by  the  late  Mr.  Traser,  to  build  and  furnish  a  public  librar)',  but  for 
some  mysterious  reason,   the  library  is  still  in  posse.       The    Insiitut    Canailien    t1oiM-ish(  1 


MOA'TREAL:    H/STOR/C.IL   AND  DESCRIPmii 


165 


^^>- ..- 


CHKIST     CllfUCII     CATHIDKAI.,      IKOM     I'llII.III'S'     SQUARE. 


for    many  years  with    a    'i::^oo{\    library  and    reading-room,   hut    it    has    of    late    fallen    into 
disuse,   and   its  Ijooks  have  been   advertised   for  sale. 

Hut  Montreal  is  more  interested  in  outdoor  sports  and  in  orjranizinL,^  amusement 
clubs  than  in  art.  The  X'ictoria  skating;  club,  whose  famous  rink  on  Druinmond  .Street 
was  one  of  the  first  erected  on  this  continent,  has  l^een  the  scene  of  many  l)rilliant  fancy- 
dress  cnti-rtainments,  which  Royalty  and  nobility  have  j^raced.  Those  "carnivals"  on  the 
lie  were  first  instinited  here,  and  have  since  become  popular  elsewhere.       Ihere  are  three 


1 66  FREXCU  CAXAPIAX  IJFIi   AND   CHARACTER 

curliiio-  clubs — the  ''alecJonia,  Montreal  and  Thistle — with  a  Canadian  brancli  of  the 
Koyal  Caledonian  luirlint;^  club  of  Scotland.  The  Montreal  curling  club  was 
founded  in  1S07,  and  ranks  hij^h  in  the  annals  of  the  "roarin'  tj^ame."  Snow-shocinji^ 
has  been  reduced  to  an  art.  The  parent  club,  the  "  Montreal,"  is  perhaps  the  mcst 
prosperous  corporate  body  of  the  kind  in  the  city.  Ihe  costunu!  is  sins^ularly  pic- 
tures(|ue — while  llannel  coat  and  le^fjj^ins^s,  bhu;  cap  with  tassel — from  which  is  derived 
the  popular  name  of  rucpie  lileue — red  sash  and  moccasins.  Then;  is  no  prettier  siu^ht 
tlian  that  of  tiie  club  met.'tiiij^r  at  the  McCill  Collei^^re  <;ates,  movini,'-  up  the  llank  of  the 
mountain  to  the  "  Pines,"  and  then  jj^liding  to  the  rendezvous  at  the  Club  House,  at 
Outremont.  The  memorable  torchlisj^ht  procession  over  this  route  to  the  hospitable 
villa  of  Thonibury.  made  in  honour  of  Lord  Dufferin,  in  1873,  was  a  fairy  spt.'ctacle 
which  will  never  be  for^^otten  by  those  who  witnessed  it.  Every  winter  there  is  a  sweep- 
stakes over  the  mountain,  a  day  devoted  to  games  and  races,  and  several  tramps  across 
country  to  a  distance  of  twent)'-f"ive  or  thirty  miles.  Lacrosse  is  the  "national  L,ame " 
of  Canatia,  and  in  that  character  it  hatl  its  birth  in  Montreal.  Four  or  five  )ears  ago, 
a  select  team  made  the  tour  of  England,  and  had  the  honour  of  playing  before  Her 
Majesty  at  W'inelsor.  The  Indian  clubs  of  Caughnawaga  and  St.  Regis  always  take 
|)art  in  the  games,  but  they  have  long  lost  the  supremacy  which  they  enjoyed  for  cen- 
turies, ihere  is  also  a  golf  clid),  established  in  1873,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Earl 
of  Dutferin  ;  a  bicycle  club,  foot-ball  club,  and  a  chess  club,  which  numbers  among  its 
members  some  ol  the  strongest  and  most  brilliant  players  in  the  countr)' ;  an  active  and 
energetic  club  for  the  protection  of  fish  and  game,  as  wi^ll  as  a  society  for  the  pre- 
vention of  cruell)  to  animals  ;  two  gymnasia,  and  a  McCiill  College  athletic  club, 
whose  annual  games  recall  many  feats  of  skill  and  strength.  Boating  is  also  a  favouril( 
pastime,  and  there  are  three  large  \acht  clubs  —the  Montreal,  Longueuil  and  Lachine. 
.\  ri'gatta  in  llochelaga  Basin,  with  the  prow  of  the  graceful  little  vessels  steering  straight 
as  a  needle  for  the  twin  spires  of  X'arennes  Church,  is  as  prett\-  a  sight  as  one  could 
wish   t(j  see. 

The  turning-point  in  the  business  history  of  Montreal  was  in  1850  or  thereabouts, 
when  it  suddenly  manifested  a  tendency  to  e.xpand.  That  change  was  mainly  ilue  to 
two  causes — the  .\Ilan  Line;  of  Steamships  and  the  (irantl  Trunk  Railway.  This  leads  us 
to  s]ieak  of  the  ship|)ing  and  the  carrying-trade  from  the;  interior  to  the  seaboard,  and 
vice  :rrscf.  ihe  geographical  position  of  the  city  is  of  course  exceptional  ;  but  in  onler 
to  make  the  most  of  it,  it  was  necessary  to  obviate  the  difficulty  presented  1)\'  the  Lachiiv 
Rapids  to  up-stream  navigation.  The  only  way  to  do  that  was  to  turn  the  rapids  by  a 
canal.  The  Sulpicians  understood  this  as  far  !)ack  as  1700,  when  the\-  opcMied  a  sluict . 
2'.'  (vvt  deep,  by  the  Ri\(T  .St.  Pierre  to  Montreal,  and  used  l)()ats  thertMU.  Li  18:1 
public-spirited  citizens,  led  by  Hon.  John  Richardson,  resolveil  to  enlarge  this  primili\'.' 
boat    canal     into    a    bar<re    canal.       Richardson     wanted     it     to    extend    from    Lachine    to 


MONTRF.AI.:    UISTORICAL   AXP   nESCRIPTnii 


167 


SriiAMKK     I'ASSlNc;     LUCKS,     AND     UNLOADING     SHU'S     HV     KLliCTKlC     Lllilll. 


I  lochelaj^a,  so  as  to  avoid  tin-  current  opjjositc  the  fort  ot  St.  Ilclcn's  Island  antl 
isle  Ronilc,  antl  tluis  make  Ilochcla^a  the  nal  port,  as  Nature  intended  it  to  he,  seeiniLj' 
that  in  its  majestic  basin  the  lleets  ol  tlie  worhl  mii^hl  moor  in  safety.  lUil  the  opi^)- 
Mtion  of  interested  parties  tliwarted  this  vast  design,  and  the  canal  was  dus.;  oidy  to 
Windmill  Point,  its  present   terminus,  a  ilistance  (jf  S ' ..    miU  s.      The   work  was  comnienceil 


1 68  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

in  1 82 1  and  completed  in  1S25.  Rut  there  was  more  to  come,  because  more  was  needed. 
The  barge  canal  was  not  sufficient,  and  must  give  way  to  a  ship  canal.  The  widening 
began  in  1843  ^"^^  continued  till  its  completion  in  1849,  ^^  '"^^  outlay  of  over  $2,000,000. 
With  the  opening  of  these  works  the  commercial  supremacy  of  Montreal  was  secured, 
because  it  fixed  the  union  of  ocean  and  inland  navigation.  The  trade,  indeed,  grew  to  such 
a  volume  that  the  canal  was  once  more  found  inadequate,  and  in  1875  another  enlargement 
was  begun,  at  an  estimated  cost  of  $6,500,000.  This  is  part  of  a  gigantic  scheme  for 
the  widening  of  the  whole  St.  Lawrence  canal  system,  a  work  whose  magnitude  will 
be  understood  when  we  remember  that  from  the  .Atlantic  entrance  of  the  straits  of  Belle 
Isle,  via  the  St.  Lawrence  and  inland  lakes  to  the  head  of  Lake  Superior,  the  distance 
is  2384  miles,  and  that  on  that  route  there  are  the  Lachine,  Beauharnois,  Cornwall, 
Farran's  Point,  Rai)i(le  Plat,  Galops  and  Welland  Canals,  the  aggregate  length  of  which 
is  7o'/2  miles;  and  the  total  lockage  536^^^  feet,  through  rift)-four  locks  up  to  Lake  b>ie  : 
also.  th(?  Sault  Ste.  Marie  Canal,  built  by  the  L'nited  States,  one  and  one-seventeenth 
miles  in  length,  with  eighteen  feet  of  lockage.  These  canals  make  Montreal  the  ri\al  of 
New  York  for  the  grain  ami  ])ro\isi()n  trade  of  the  (ireat  West  and  North-west.  Her 
facilities  arc  gnat,  and  there  is  ev<.T\  prospect  of  farther  and  speedy  de\el()pment. 
Alri'adv.  we  can  get  on  Ijoard  th(.'  "  Holiemian,"  or  some  other  large  and  well-appointed 
steamer,  at  the  lowest  dock  of  tlie  Lachine;  Canal,  and  take  as  pleasant  a  summer 
journe)  up  the  St.  Lawrence  as  mortal  tired  of  the  dust  and  heat  of  the  cit\-  can 
desire;  and  still  nn  by  water  without  a  break,  up  lake  after  lake,  to  "the  cit\'  ot 
tlie  unsalted  seas,"  in  the  heart  of  the  Continent.  Or,  we  can  go  east  as  safel)-  as 
west.  Nearly  thirt\-  \ears  ago  the  first  steamers  of  the;  .\llan  Company  were 
sent  forth,  but  a  st'ries  of  disasters  well-nigh  brought  the  enterprise  to  the  ground. 
Tlu;  Coinpaii)'  persevered,  howexcr.  until  now  the\'  possess  one  of  the  finest  and  largest 
fleets  atloat.  comprising  twenty-fixc  iron  ami  steel  steamers,  to  say  nothing  of  swift 
antl  powerful  clippers.  These  \-essels  pl\-  between  Montrt'al  and  Lixcrpool,  Montreal 
and  (ilasgow,  Boston  antl  Liverpool,  and  Boston  and  Glasgow.  •  Tlu're  are  besitle 
eight  or  ten  steamship  lines  employeil  regularl)'  in  th(;  Montreal  trade — the  Dominion. 
Bea\er,  Temperley,  Ross.  Thompson,  Donaldson,  Great  Western,  White  Cross  and  IJull 
Ports.  .V  Trench  line  is  also  in  near  contemplation,  for  next  season,  as  well  as  a  service 
with  Brazil.  The  inland  navigation  is  perfectly  supplied.  We  have  a  daily  mail  sti'anier 
to  and  from  Quebec,  connecting  with  steamers  to  all  the  Avatering  places  of  the  Lower 
St.  Lawrence  and  the  .Saguenay  ;  also  a  daily  line  to  the  ports  of  Ontario  as  far  as 
Hamilton  ;  another  dailv  line  uii  tht;  Ottawa,  and  a  number  of  wav-boats  to  all  the 
villages  and  towns  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  Richelieu  Rivers.  The  port  is  admirabh 
provided  with  wharves  and  basins,  and  farther  accommodation  is  being  prepared. 
Indeed,  the  enlargement  of  the  harbour  is  one  of  the  main  cjuestions  of  the  future,  and 
some  remarkable  plans  have  already    been    submitted    to    the     public.        .Ml    the    modern 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIJ'H 


169 


0 


■J. 


ijo  /■A'/:.V(7/  CANADIAN  UF/:    AX/)   ClfARACTER 

appliances  for  loading  and  unloading  are  employed,  and  the  facilities  for  almost  immediate 
transhipment  from  freight-cars  to  the  hold  of  vessels  are  unsurpassed.  Montreal  was  the 
first  port  in  the  world  lighted  by  electricity.  The  result  is  continuous  labour.  The 
electric  lights  are  placed  at  intervals  of  about  two  hundred  yards,  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Lachine  Canal  to  Hochelaga,  so  that  the  whole-  harbour  is  lit  up.  The  (juestion  of 
harbour  dues  has  been  engaging  attention,  and  steps  have  been  taken  to  make  Montreal 
a  free  port.  The  port  is  governed  by  a  Board  of  Commissioners,  a  portion  of  whom 
represent  the  Federal  Government,  another  the  shipping  interest,  and  a  third  part  the 
city  corporation.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  a  more  striking  contrast  than  that  pre- 
sented by  the  harbour  in  summer  and  in  winter.  Our  illustration  shows  that  part  of 
it  near  the  Custom  House  called  Island  Wharf,  The  dock  here  is  always  crowded  with 
ocean  steamers,  elevators  drawing  grain  from  barges  and  loading  them,  and  vessels  and 
skiffs  of  all  sizes — while  a  forest  of  masts  and  funnels  extends  far  down  the  river.  The 
scene  is  one  of  busy  labour  night  and  day.  The  great  river  sweeps  past  in  calm 
majesty,  with  a  force  that  no  power  could  arrest.  Hut  the  frost  king  comes,  and  everything 
that  looks  like  commerce  takes  flight.  The  river  is  sealed  fast,  till  another  power 
comes  with  kindly  influences.  The  spring  rains  and  suns  rot  the  ice,  and  it  begins  to 
break.  Montreal  is  on  the  ijiti  vhc  to  see  it  start  down  the  river.  It  starts,  but  is 
usually  blocked  at  Isle  Ronde,  and  grounds.  Then  it  shoves,  and  piles  up,  and  the 
lower  parts  of  the  city  are  flooded.  To  cross  with  a  boat  at  such  a  time  is  not 
only  an  exciting  but  often  a  perilous  undertaking,  as  the  cakes  of  ice  may  move  or 
turn  under  the  men,  when  of  course  the  danger  is  extreme  even  to  the  most  skilful 
ice-navigators. 

The  Grand  Trunk  Railway  has  been  for  years  the  main  artery  of  the  commerce 
of  the  country,  and  Montreal  is  its  chief  terminus.  iMve  other  lines  of  railway  centre 
here  —  the  Champlain  and  St.  Lawrence,  Central  Vermont,  Boston  and  Delaware, 
South-Easter  ,  and  North  Shore.  The  North  Shore  (officially  named  the  Quebec,  Mon- 
treal, Ottawa  and  Occidental  Railway)  has  its  central  station  in  the  eastern  part  of  tin.- 
city,  on  the  site  of  the  old  Quebec  Gate  Barracks,  which  had  to  be  torn  down  in  con- 
sequence, thus  depriving  the  city  of  one  of  its  most  interesting  historical  landmarks. 
This  railway  is  the  property  of  the  local  government,  which  is  said  to  have  expended 
about  thirteen  millions  in  its  construction,  thereby  creating  a  debt  that  weighs  like  an 
incubus    upon    the    Province. 

The  Montreal  Board  of  Trade  was  incorporated  by  Act  of  Parliament  in  1842,  and 
consists  of  an  Executive  and  a  Board  of  Arbitrators.  There  is  also  a  Corn  F2xchangc 
Association,  incorporated  in  1863,  with  a  Committee  of  Management  and  a  Board  of 
Review.  A  third  corporation,  the  Dominion  Board  of  Trade,  received  its  initiation 
mainly  in  Montreal,  though  its  annual  meetings  have  generally  been  held  in  Ottawa 
Another    important  l)ody  is    the    Montreal    Stock   Exchange,  which    holds    two  daily  ses- 


MOXTRILIL:    HISTORICAL   AXP  DESCRIPTIIE 


171 


sions,  forenoon  and  afternoon.  The  scene  of  its  operations  is  St.  I'ranrois  Xavier  Street, 
which  is  the  Wall  Street  of  Montreal.  There  all  the  brokers  have  their  offices,  and 
about  noon,  on  certain  days,  the  sidewalks  are  crowded  with  dealers  and  speculators, 
discussing  the  ebb  and  llow  of  stocks,  and  condiictini^  their  mysterious  operations.  St. 
Frangois    Xavier    is    one  of    the  oldest    and   narrowest  streets    of    the    city,   but  it  affords 


TRAN'SI'KKKINC.     FKHIOIIT     HV     I'.I.KCTKK       [.IGHT. 


a  curious  (ground  of  observation  for  iIk;  visitor  who  wishes  to  form  an  iilea  of  the 
financial  importance  of  the  Canadian  metropolis.  When  the  heterogeneousness  of  the 
jjopulation  is  taken  into  account,  the  cit\'  government  may  be  .said  to  be  fairly  well 
administered.  The  standing  trouble  is  the  rivalry  between  the  East  and  West  E)nds — 
iliat  is,    the   I'rench  and    I'.nglish-speaking  portions. 

St.    Urbain    is    another  street    that  may  be    said    to  be  on    the  border-land    between 
ihe    English    and    the    I'Vench-spcaking    population  of    Montreal.       We    see    it    in  winter 


«72 


FNHXCff  CANAP/.l.V  LIFE  AXD   CHARACTER 


MONTRK.AI,    WINTF.R    SCKNKS. 


MONTREAr.:    IflSTORICAL   AND   PESCRIPTH'E 


'73 


dress,  the  snow  cleared  from  the  sidewalks  and  formini^r  parallel  lines,  between  which 
trattic  makes  its  \\a\  much  more  smoothly  tlian  in  summer.  The  snow  is  less  of 
an    impediment    to    ordinary     business    than    is    dust    or    rain    during    the    other    seasons 


NOTRK     DAMK,   IROM    ST.     LRHAI.N     STREET. 


of  the  year.  It  is  a  decided  impediment,  indeed,  to  the  procuress  of  conflaq^rations, 
with  which  Montreal  used  to  be  scourged.  The  ile|)artnient.  liowever.  is  now  so 
ihoroughly  organized  that  it  is  almost  impossible  for  a  tire  to  make  an\-  headway 
iK'forc    it    is    checked.        The    alarm    system    is    so     perfect    and     tlie    Ijrigade    so    disci- 


174 


FREaWCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   ClfARACTER 


plined,  that  no  conflagrations  on  an  extensive  scale  have  taken  place  within  the  past 
twenty-five  years.  I-'verything  is  also  clone  to  protect  property  in  case  of  fire.  The 
illustration    is   a    spirited    sketch    of   a    salvage    wagon    that    has    just    come    out    of    the 


IN    ST.     GAHRIKL    STKKET. 


fire  station  on  St.  Gabriel  Street,  and  is  plunging  along  between  the  lines  of  piled-up 
snow,  to  the  s|)ot  indicated  by  the  alarm.  The  duty  of  the  men  is  to  cover  up  all 
endangered  property  with  tarpaulins,  and  to  be  its  custodians  till  questions  of  ownership 
and  insurance  are  settled. 

In  a  first  visit  to  Montreal,  by  all  means  let  the  traveller  approach  from  the  water- 


MONTREAL:    HISTORICAL   A.\7)  DESCRIPT/IT. 


175 


from  up  stream,  down  stream,  or  the  south  shore.  From  all  three  directions  the  view  will 
repay  him.  The  river  itself  is  so  fascinatinjj^  in  its  strenjj^th  of  crystal  purity,  so  over- 
powerin,(,r  in  vastness  and  mij^jht,  that  it  would  dwarf  an  ordinary  city.  It  does  dwarf  every 
other  place  alon^  its  banks — Quebec  alone  e.xcepted.  It  bears.  lij,ditiy  as  a  j^arland,  the 
chain  of  the  great  bridge  that  binds  its  opposite  shores  with  multi])lied  links  of  massive 
L,n-anite.       The  green  slopes  of    St.    Helen's  Island  resting  like  a    leaf    on   the    water,   the 


forest  of  masts  and 
red  and  white  fun- 
iK^ls,  the  old-fashioned  hay  and  wood  barges,  the  long  line  of  soildly-built  revetment 
wall,  the  majestic  dome  of  the  Bonsecours  Market,  the  twin  towers  of  Notre  Dame, 
palatial  warehouses,  graceful  spires  sown  thick  as  a  field,  and  the  broad  shoulders  of 
Mount  Royal  uplifted  in  the  background,  make  up  a  picture  that  artist,  merchant,  or 
patriot — -each  for  his  own  reasons — may  well  delight  to  look  upon.  To  persons  coming 
Horn  abroad,  believing  Canada  to  be  a  wilderness  of  ice  and  snow,  the  home  of 
Indians  and  buffaloes,  the  first  view  is  a  revelation.  When  they  drive  through  any 
"f  the  numerous  magnificent  business  thoroughfares,  and  then  round  the  mountain,  they 
sometimes  consider  what  sort  of  a  back  country  that  must  be  which  supplies  such  a 
liver   and    builds    up    such    a    city,  and    wonder    why — in    the    face    of    such  grand  enter- 


176  FRHNCI/  CANADIAN  l.IFIi  AND   CHARACTHK 

prises    antl    unrivalled    pro<rress  on    tlu;    part    of    Canadians — they   have    never    heard   of 
such  a  thinj,^  as  Canadian  patriotism. 

Of  the  three  water  views  there  is  none  e(pial  to  that  obtained  on  a  summer  after- 
noon or  evenin*^  from  the  deck  of  a  steamer  comin^,^  down  stream.  Irom  the  time 
the  Indian  pilot  is  taken  on  i)oard  above  the  Lachine  Rapids,  all  is  (.-aijer  e.xpect- 
ancy  on  the  part  of  passen_y;ers  who  have  made  the  journey  a<,^ain  and  a_L,^ain,  as  well 
as  in  tin,'  case  of  tourists  who  ar('  running'  the  rapiils  for  the-  lirst  time.  As  we  near 
Victoria  Mridi^e  it  s(;ems  impossible  that  llu!  "  Corsican "  can  pass  under,  and  the 
question  is  sometimes  asked  whether  there  is  anj'  arranijjement  for  lowerinj^  the  funnels. 
The  steamer  glides  alony; ;  we  look  up  and  see  our  mistake,  ami  tlu'n  look  ilown  upon 
the  innocent  questioner.  Now  the  crowded  harbour,  the  cit\-  in  its  fresh  beauty, 
ami  the  mountain  in  all  the  .u'lory  of  its  summer  vesture,  are  revealed.  The  steamer 
rounds  up  to  the  Commissioners'  Wharf,  to  discharge  its  (juebec  passenj^ers  into  the 
huge  palace  floating  alongside.  Laml  lu^re  antl  stroll  down  stream  before  taking 
a  cab.  You  soon  find  yoursc^lf  in  the  heart  of  I'rench-.Montreal.  Here;  are  anti(iue 
barges  with  hay,  from  the  surroumling  country,  which  is  being  unloadetl  into  carts 
primitive  enough  for  the  tla\s  and  the;  land  of  I'^vangeliiie.  Instead  of  the  rush  of 
an  American  city,  there  is  an  air  of  repose  and  human  enjoyment.  The  very  coasters 
and  carters  pause  in  their  work,  to  exchanges  gossip  and  cheery  jokes.  Here,  again, 
are  wood-barges  that  have  evidently  come  from  a  greater  distance.  Each  barge 
discharges  part  of  its  load  at  once  and  places  it  on  the  wharf  on  racks  that  indicate 
its  measurement  by  the  cord.  The  purchaser  can  thus  point  out  e.xactly  liow  much 
he  wants,  and  the  barge  remains  calmly  beside  the  wharf  till  the  whole  cargo  is  sold. 
A  few  y(,'ars  ago,  wood  and  hay  barges  were  to  be  found  in  the  centre  of  the  harbour  ; 
but  th('  increasing  traffic  is  pushing  them  farther  and  farthcn*  down,  all  the  way  to 
Hochelaga.  Return  to  the  Honsecours.  The  market  is  a  great  three-storey  parallelo- 
gram of  cut-stone,  occupying  a  s(]uare  on  the  river-front,  and  with  a  stateK'  dome  and 
cupola.  It  is  crowded  on  the  forenoons  of  market-days,  when  the  manners  of  the 
habitant  can  be  studietl  to  best  ailvantage.  He  has  come  to  the  city  with  the  produce 
of  his  farm  or  garden.  (jiiict,  paticMit.  courteous,  he  waits  for  customers.  Sometimes, 
these  may  be  his  own  neighbours  who  ha|)pen  to  need  what  he  has  to  sell,  anil  then  he 
puts  down  his  price  a  little.  Sometimes  the^y  are  from  the  East  End — I'Vench  therefore — 
and  to  them  he  is  more  than  amiable,  and  sells  fairly.  I)Ut  the  grand  lady  from  the 
West  End,  while  receiving  ample  politeness,  must  pa\'  full  price.  .Still,  there  is  good  feeling 
between  the  different  races  and,  for  the  most  part,  honest  dealing.  Are  they  not  citizens 
of  a  common  country,  even  though  the  Ultramontane  studiously  characterizes  those  o! 
English  speech  as  "  f»reigners"  ?  I'rom  the  market,  go  up  the  lane  leading  to  thr 
old-fashioned  church.  The  lane  is  encroached  upon  by  little  dingy  eating-houses,  thrown 
out,  like    buttresses,  from    the    walls   of   the    church.       Hingy  as    they    are,  they    give    a 


MOjVTRF.AL.    msrORICAl.   ANP  I-iESCRIPTH'E 


^77 


MAIL     STKAMKk     I'ASSING     UNDER     VICIOKIA     liKlUGE. 


better  cup  of  coffee  than  cither  steamer  or  mow.  invitiiii^-Iookintj  restaurants.  Vou  soon 
reach  St.  Paul's  Street,  the  street  that  constituted  the  Cit\-  of  Montreal  at  first,  and 
now,  by  all  means,  ente-  the  faxouriti;  city  church  of  th('  habitant.  The  loud  colours, 
the  tawdry  t^nlt  and  jj^eneral  bad  taste  of  modern  Catholicism,  and  the  elaborate  upholstery 
of  shodd\'  Protestantism,  are  alike  consi)icu<)us  by  their  absence.  The  rilicvos  on  the 
walls,  the  altar,  the  anticpie  pulpit,  remind  one  of  a  seventeenth  century  jjarish  church 
in  Brittany.  We  are  taken  back  to  the  days  of  Mari^uerite  Bourgeois,  who  laid  the 
foundation-stone  more  than  two  centuries  Ts.'go.  Baron  de  Fancamp  gave  her  a  small 
image  of  the  Virgin,  endowed  with  miraculous  virtue,  on  condition  that  a  chapel  should 
!■(■  built  for  its  reception.  Marguerite  and  the  people  of  Montreal  enthusiastically  complied 
with  the  condition.  From  that  da\",  many  a  wonderful  deliverance,  especially  of  sailors, 
has  been  attributed  to    Our    Lady  of    Gracious    Help.       The  image  still   stands   on    the 


178 


FREXCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


gable  nearest,  the  river,  and  within,  votive  offerings  and  memorials  of  deliverances  almost 
hide  the  altar.  An  agnostic  might  envy  the  simple  faith  of  the  people,  and  the  states- 
man could  desire  no  better  race  to  till  the  soil.  Every  true  Lower  Canadian  loves  the 
I^onsecours  Chapel.  It  symbolizes,  to  a  race  that  clings  to  the  past,  faith,  country  and 
fatherland.  And  it  is  the  only  symbol  of  the  kind  that  "modern  im[)rovements "  have 
left  in  Montreal.  The  old  Recollet  has  been  swept  away.  The  spoilers  have  spoiled 
Quebec.  And  all  over  the  Province,  quaint  churches  beloved  by  the  people  are  being 
replaced  by  huge,  costly,  modern  structures.  In  the  name  of  everything  distinctively 
Lower  Canadian,  spare  symbols  like  V'arennes  and  the  Bonsecars! 

Here,  beside  his  cht^di  and  market,  in  the  stately  commercial  metropolis  of  Canada, 
the  white  city  of  America,  we  leave  the  habitant,  with  cordial  recognition  of  what  he 
has  been  and  is,  ani'   with  all  (jood  wishes  for  his  future. 


UNI.OAUING     HAY     HAROKS. 


rmi  rowRR  Ottawa 


179 


THE    LOWER    OTTAWA. 


''  I  **\\\\  dark-brown  waten 
-*-.      of     the     Ottawa     at 


waters 
at 
their  (ichoiichcinoit  l)elow 
lh(;  Lake  of  Two  Moun- 
tains divide  into  three 
channels,  the  two  smaller 
(if  which  tlow  norlii  re- 
spectively of  Laval  and  of  Montreal  Island,  whih;  the  third  and  most  considerable  in 
size  expands  into  Lake  St.  Louis,  one  of  the  larijest  lakes  on  the  St.  Lawrence. 
We  are  about  to  trace  the  course  of  the  "  ( jrand  River"  from  the  commercial  t<j  the 
political  metropolis  of  Canada,  throus^h  a  rej^ion  no  less  rich  in  historic  associations 
than  in  its  inexhaustible  beauty  of  scener\".  unchaujued  in  the  picturescpie  wildness  of 
"i\"r.  hill  and  wt)od.  since  Champlain.  first  ot  white  men,  adventured  to  explore  its 
-ouibre  waters ;  an*  yet,  embellished  with  all  the  tokens  of  mode'rn  civilization  and 
jirojrress,    its    waters    controlled     by    machiner)'    that    can    lock    or    loose    its    forces,    and 

panned  by  hujre  viaducts  throuy^h  which   the  locomotive  tluuiders  ;  and   farther  on,  as  we 
iscend    its  current,  directed    by  the  skill  and    toil  of   civilized    man    into    an    open,   navi- 

able  stream  from  city  to  city,   its    shores    enriched    with    all    that    betokens    agricultural 


i8o  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

plenty,  while  quaint  church-towers  and  tastefully-decorated  villas  give  the  charm  cf  human 
interest  to  scenes  of  such  varied  natural  beauty. 

From  the  wharf  at  Montreal  we  take  the  steamer  which  is  to  carry  us  up  the 
Ottawa  to  our  destination  at  the  Capital.  We  proceed  for  the  first  eight  and  a  half 
miles  along  the  Lachine  Canal  amid  scenery  tranquil  and  uneventful  as  that  of  a  Dutch 
village.  Along  the  level  banks  are  occasional  trees  and  houses,  whose  general  appearance 
is  scarcely  such  as  to  indicate  the  neighbourhood  of  Canada's  wealthiest  city.  Before 
us  the  canal  extends  mathematically  straight,  for  the  most  part  on  a  higher  level  than 
the  surrounding  fields,  so  that  sometimes  we  can  peep  into  the  top-storey  windows  of 
the  houses  as  we  pass.  Every  now  and  then  we  are  delayed  by  a  lock,  of  which  we 
encounter  five  on  our  way  to  Lachine.  First  the  lock-gates  are  closed  upon  our  steamer; 
then  machmery  is  set  at  work  which  admits  the  water  from  the  higher  level ;  seething 
and  tossing,  the  Hood  bears  us  up  ;  the  gates  are  once  more  opened,  and  after  a  delay 
of  some  twenty  minutes  we  pass  on.  We  meet  endless  fleets  of  barges,  some  towed 
by  horses,  some  by  propellers,  all  kinds  and  varieties  of  steamers,  passenger-boats, 
barges,  and  tugs  "  of  low  degree  ;"  all  manner  of  nondescript  craft — shapeless,  heavy- 
laden,  broad-bowed — whose  native  element  seems  to  be  the  canal,  and  whose  build  is 
such  that  they  look  ill-adapted  for  navigation  in  more  boisterous  waters.  Yet  these 
ponderous  boats  have  made  voyages  from  the  Far  North  and  the  Western  lakes;  they 
will  tloat  through  Lake  Champlain  to  Albany;  still  on,  down  the  Hudson  to  New- 
York,  or  on  the  broad  St.  Lawrence  to  Quebec.  The  traffic  on  the  canal  is  such 
as  in  itself  to  give  some  idea  of  the  commercial  importance  of  Montreal.  Here 
and  there  the  monotony  of  trading-vessels  is  broken  by  the  snow-white  sails  of  a 
pleasure-yacht  from  the  city ;  or  some  enthusiastic  angler,  absorbed  in  the  nirvana  of 
bait-fishing,  sits  in  a  skiff  that  never  rocks  but  with  the  ripple  of  the  passing  steamer. 
There  is  something  soothing  in  the  intense  calm  of  this  canal  navigation  with  which  tlu; 
scenery  both  on  the  canal  ixinks  and  among  the  shipping  is  thoroughly  in  harmony. 
It  is,  as  .Shelley  says,  "a  meta|)hor.  of  peace."  As  the  steamer  passes  between  the 
locks,  it  is  pleasant  to  go  ashore  and  watch  the  canal  from  a  little  distance.  The 
houses  we  pass  are  built  with  the  usual  high-pitched  roofs  of  I'Vench-Canada,  the 
slanting  eaves  projecting  in  front.  ;\11  round  us  are  the  level  fields  extending  to  th(; 
foot  of  the  canal  embankment.  The  canal  itself  is  invisible,  and  we  see  steamers  and 
barges  moving  along,  as  it  were,  on  dry  ground  ! 

At  Lachine  it  will  be  well  to  land  and  stroll  awhile  amid  the  scenery  of  this  qui<t 
suburb  of  the  great  city,  with  its  reminiscences  of  Robert  Cavalier,  Sieur  de  l;i 
Salle,  and  its  association  with  so  ma'iy  vicissitudes  in  the  history  of  the  heroic  aii<l 
saintly  founders  of  New  France.  In  the  words  "La  Chine"  we  have  a  record  of  'ln' 
belief  common  to  so  many  American  explorers,  from  Columbus  downwards,  that  through 
America   lay    the   highway    to    the    Orient,   a    belief    which    the    increasing    facilities    <  f 


THE  LOWER   OTTAWA  i8i 

communication  witli  the  Pacific  Coast  will  yet  redeem  from  the  list  of  delusions. 
Lachine  is  a  quaint  and  picturesque  old  town,  of  some  4000  inhabitants ;  the  houses 
with  tall,  steep  gables,  dormer  windows  and  square  stone  chimneys  ;  the  streets  gay  with 
visitors  from  Montreal,  a  considerable  number  of  whom  reside  during  the  summer 
months  at  Lachine,  whence  they  come  and  go  to  their  places  of  business  in  the  city  by 
the  railway.  Nestling  among  trees  of  immemorial  growth  are  the  parish  church,  and 
the  convent,  amid  its  high-walled  gardens.  The  former  is  a  handsome  edifice,  whose 
twin  spires,  gracefully  decorated,  rise  high  above  the  surrounding  streets.  The  style  i> 
that  modification  of  Renaissance-Gothic  which  the  French  brought  from  Europe,  and  on 
which  French  Jesuitism — the  Jesuitism  of  the  Martyrs,  not  of  the  political  intriguers — 
has  impressed  the  character  of  its  glorious  traditions. 

Before  the  canal  was  built,  Lachine  was  a  place  of  greater  commercial  importance 
than  at  present ;  it  was  then  the  trading  emporium  for  Montreal,  to  which  was  conveyed 
all  the  merchandise  from  the  Western  centres,  and  even  the  cargoes  of  skins  and  furs 
which  the  trappers  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  had  ':ollected  during  the  winter. 
Hither  came,  week  by  week,  the  batteaux,  or  large,  flat-bottomed  vessels,  shaped  some- 
what like  "  bonnes,"  or  lumbermen's  boats ;  these  arrived  regularly  with  goods  and 
passengers  from  Kingston  and  the  head  of  the  Bay  of  Ouinte,  and  from  the  lake  ports 
farther  west. 

The  Sulpician  leathers,  who  were  tlie  feudal  lords  of  the  island  of  Montreal, 
were  anxious  to  protect  their  new  settlement  of  \'illemarie  by  an  outpost  held 
from  them  by  military  tenure.  Hence  they  gladly  granted  a  tract  of  land  near  the 
rapids  above  Montreal  to  the  gallant  hut  ill-fated  La  Salle.  He  remained  in  possession 
only  long  enough  to  found  a  village  fortified  rudely  with  palisades,  and  to  name  it 
"  Lachine,"  in  accordance  with  the  dominant  idea  of  his  adventurous  life — a  passage 
across  the  Continent  to  the  Indies.  After  La  Salle's  departure,  the  village  of  Lachine 
conveniently  situated  for  the  carrying-trade  of  Montreal,  continued  to  flourish  until,  in 
1689,  t'^^'  terrible  blow  of  its  destruction  by  the  Iroquois  hail  the  efl'ect  of  overthrowing 
the  French  schemes  of  American  conquest  for  a  time,  and  reducing  their  tenure  of 
Canadian  soil  to  the  space  within  the  ramparts  of  Quebec,  Three  Rivers,  and  Montreal, 
rhe  first  aggressive  march  by  Champlain  on  the  Iroipiois  had  proved  not  only  a  crime, 
I  lilt  a  mistake.  This  policy  was  that  of  the  Jesuits  and  the  successive  Governors  of 
New  France.  It  consisted  in  converting  and  arming,  as  allies  and  proselytes,  one  Indian 
tribe  against  the  other.  Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  morality  of  this  policy,  it 
might,  no  doubt,  have  proved  successful,  had  the  French  only  been  so  fo.tunate  as  to 
choose  for  their  allies  the  more  warlike  Indian  tribes.  Unhappily,  ever  since  Cham- 
plain's  expedition  up  the  Ottawa,  he  and  his  successors  selected  as  their  friends  the 
(' ebler  and  less  military  races — the  Ottawas,  Hurons  and  Aigonquins  ;  by  which  step,  as 
well  as  by  their  own  repeated  acts  of  violence,  they  drew  on  themselves  the  relentless  hatred 


i82  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

of  the  powerful  confederacy  known  as  the  Iroquois,  later  called  the  Six-Nation  Indians. 
Up  to  the  time  of  the  American  Revolution,  these  savages  maintained,  in  greater  efficiency 
than  has  been  known  elsewhere  among  their  wandering  and  disunited  race,  that  military 
organization  which  seems  the  only  approach  to  civilization  of  which  the  Indian  in  his 
native  condition  is  capable.  The  Irocpiois  were  to  the  Algonquins  and  Hurons  what  the 
Zulus  are  to  the  other  negro  races  of  Kast  Africa.  Those  virtues  and  physical  gifts 
which  belong  to  savage  life,  and  are  apt  to  sicken  or  become  extinct  by  contact  with 
civilization,  the  Iroquois  possessed.  Their  fidelity  to  friends  is  unstained  by  any  record 
of  such  treachery  as  was  shown  by  the  Huron  allies  of  Uaulac  des  Ormeaux;  their 
savage  practices  of  purposed  cruelty  proved  how  much  the  possession  of  reason  enabled 
the  human  brutes,  who  tore  the  scalps  from  their  still  living  prisoners,  to  degrade 
themselves  below  the  level  of  the  wolf  and  bear,  the  emblems  of  their  tribe.  With 
the  recklessness  of  a  lofty  ambition,  the  Trench  leaders  had  resolved  to  extend  the 
dominions  of  the  Catholic  Church  and  the  I'Vench  King  far  in  the  rear  and  to  the 
southward  of  the  English  settlements  on  the  Atlantic  seaboard.  In  the  prosecution  of 
this  grand  scheme  they  drew  on  themselves  the  hatred  not  only  of  the  Iroquois  whose 
lands  they  invaded,  but  of  the  enemies  of  their  own  race  and  religion  by  whom  these 
wolves  of  the  wilderness  were  armed  and  hounded  on.  The  year  1689  saw  New 
France,  under  the  rule  of  the  reckless  Marquis  de  Denonville,  engaged  in  an  Indian 
war  along  her  whole  line  of  settlements.  The  Iroquois  had  received  great  provo- 
cation. The  Governor,  by  means  of  the  Jesuit  missionaries,  whom  he  made  his  uncon- 
scious accomplices,  had  induced  a  number  of  Iro(]uois  chiefs  to  meet  him  in  peaceful 
conference.  These  he  had  seized  and  sent  to  France,  that  their  toil  as  galley-slaves 
might  amuse  the  Royal  vanity.  The  Iroquois  had  scorned  to  revenge  this  perfidy  on 
the  missionaries,  who  were  sent  in  safety  from  their  camp.  But  a  terrible  retribution 
was  at  hand.  Nearly  two  centuries  ago,  on  the  night  of  August  5th,  1689,  as  the 
inhabit  of  Lachine  lay  sleeping,  amid  a  storm  of  hail  upon  the  lake  which  effectually 

disguised  the  noise  of  their  landing,  a  force  of  many  hundred  warriors,  armed,  and 
besmeared  with  war-paint,  matle  a  descent  upon  Lachine.  Through  the  night  they  noise- 
lessly surrounded  every  building  in  the  village.  With  dawn  the  fearful  war-whoop  awoke 
men,  women  and  children,  to  their  doom  of  torture  and  death.  The  village  was  fired  ; 
by  its  light  in  the  early  morn,  the  horror-stricken  inhabitants  of  Montreal  could  see  from 
their  fortifications  the  nameless  cruelties  which  preceded  the  massacre.  It  ii  said  the 
Iroquois  indulged  so  freely  in  the  fire-water  of  the  Lachine  merchants,  that  hatl  the  de- 
fenders of  Villemarie  betm  prompt  to  seize  the  favourable  moment,  the  drunken  wretches 
might  have  been  slaughtered  like  swine.  Paralyzed  by  the  horrors  they  had  witnessed, 
the  French  let  the  occasion  slip  ;  at  nightfall  the  savages  withdrew  to  the  mainland,  not, 
however,  without  signifying  by  yells,  repeated  to  the  number  of  ninety,  how  many  prisoners 
they  carried  away.      From  the  ramparts  of  Villemarie,  and  amid  the  blackened   ruins  ol 


THE  LOWER   OTTAWA  183 

Lachine,  the  garrison  watched  the  fires  on  the  opposite  shore,  kindled  for  what  purposes 
of  nameless  cruelty  they  knew  too  well.  The  fate  of  Lachine  marks  the  lowest  point 
in  the  fortunes  of  New  France  ;  by  what  deeds  of  heroism  they  were  retrieved,  is  not 
the  least  glorious  page  in  Canadian  history. 

Leaving  the  village  of  Lachine,  it  will  be  well  to  walk  some  distance  along  the 
lower  road  which  skirts  the  river.  Here,  amid  sylvan  shades  of  pleasant  retirement,  we 
may  enjoy  the  Lucretian  satisfaction  of  viewing  the  distant  rapids.  Beyond  the  point 
of  a  long,  low-lying  ridge  of  rocky  islet,  the  river  is  white  with  wrathful  foam,  and  the 
spray  clouds  rise  when  a  steamer  is  gallantly  breasting  the  torrent.  Meanwhile,  the 
robins  are  singing  from  the  maple  trees,  and  the  cows — those  optimists  of  the  animal 
creation — are  looking  placidly  forth  on  the  rapids  as  if  they  knew  that  all  was  for  the 
best !  We  pass  a  huge  lumbering  but  not  unpicturesque  farmer's  wagon,  laden  v.ith 
grain  for  the  mill  to  which  the  farmer's  wife — a  comely  Canadienne,  in  the  usual  loose 
jacket  and  inevitable  white  hat — is  driving  a  horse  that  will  certainly  not  run  away. 
The  mill  is  a  feature  in  the  landscape  worth  observing — a  (juadrangular  stone  tower 
broad  at  the  base,  its  lines  converging  at  the  top  to  support  the  old-fashioned,  cruciform 
wind-sails,  whose  great  arms  move  through  the  air  like  those  of  the  giants  Don  Quixote 
assailed.  Surrounded  by  spreading  trees,  and  close  to  this  beautiful  river  scenery, 
the  old  windmill,  weather-beaten  and  mellowed  by  its  seventy  years'  service,  has  an 
air  of  rustic  grace  not  to  I)e  found  in  more  recent  and  more  pretentious  structures. 
It  seems  that  there  was  at  one  time  a  dispute  between  the  owner  of  this  mill  and 
the  l*"athe:s  of  St.  Sulpice.  who  claimed  the  sole  right  of  milling  on  the  island, 
and  that  the  cause  was  decided  in  favour  of  the;  miller,  who  was,  however,  forbidden 
to  rebuild  his  mill  should  it  chance  to  I)e  destroyed.  Hence  it  was  that  he  re- 
paired the  wooden  structure  by  surrounding  it  with  the  stone  wall  which  gives  it  its 
present  fortress-like  appearance. 

From  Lachine  may  be  s('en  in  the  far  distance  the  Indian  village  of  Caughnawaga, 
wiu're,  civilized  and  Christianized,  some  five  hundred  descendants  of  the  Iroquois  de- 
stroyers of  Lachine  dream  away  their  harmless  and  useless  lives.  This,  and  such  as 
this,  on  other  Indian  reserves,  is  the  result  of  all  the  heroism  chronicled  in  the 
volumes  of  the  Rclatiotis  dcs  Jcsiiitcs !  By  martyrdom,  by  endurance  of  privations  and 
cruelties  compared  with  which  martyrdom  might  seem  a  merciful  relief,  they  gained 
their  object.  They  converted  at  last  the  terrible  Iroquois  enemy  !  And  with  what 
result  ?  So  much  and  such  noble  effort,  only  to  be  wasted  on  a  race  fast  becoming 
I'xtinct ;  a  race  which,  a  century  hence,  will  have  left  no  memorial  to  the  Canada  of 
the  future,  save  where  here  and  there  our  cities  and  rivers  recall  the  strange  music 
of  the  Indian  names  ! 

We  steam  along  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  St.  Louis  past  the  Isle  Derval,  a  portion 
i>f   the  lake  where  the  colour  of  the  purplish-brown  water  of  the  Ottawa  may  be  d.stin- 


1 84 


FRENCFT  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


OLD    WlMlMII.I.    ON    I.ACHINK     KOAI).    AM)    DISIANI     VIKW    1)1-    I.ACHINK    KAl'lDS. 


guishcd  from  the  screen  tinu^c  of  the  St.  Lawrence;.  ()(  course,  this  is  not  ohs(rrvahle  under 
all  conditions  of  the  atinosjihere,  but  on  brii^dit,  sunshiny  days,  there  can  be  no  doidjt 
whatever  that  this  difference  in  colour  can  be  distinctly  traced.  The  dark,  purple  tinge 
characterizes  the  imperial  river,  which,  from  as  yet  almost  une.xplored  sources,  stretching 
to  the  watershed  of  Hudson's  May,  from  tributary  rivers  extending  (>ast  and  west  and 
south,  through    many  a  wide-spreading  lake,   and  over  cataracts  lifting   their   columns    of 


THE   LOWER   OTTAWA 


185 


spray  to  the  clouds  of  heaven,  past  the  metropolitan  city  of  Canada,  and  through  valleys 
and  amid  hills  and  islands  rich  in  every  inia_i,Mnable  type  of  nature's  loveliness — here  meets 
at  last  its  equal — here  blends  its  waters,  though  as   yet   distinct    in    colour,  with   its  own 

legitimate  sister,  the  great 
lake  stream  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence. Swiftly  we  steam 
on,  crossing  Lake  St.  Louis, 
where  steamers  are  passing 
and  re-passing,  and  the  gay 
yachts  of  Montreal  spread 
their  white  wings  to  the 
breeze.  The  waters  of 
Lake  St.  Louis  are  shallow, 
and    the    shores    flat,    and 


CANAL    LOCK,     AND     KAM.WAV     MKIDGK     AT    STK.     A.NNK'S. 


hinged  with  dusky  woods,  presenting  no  marked  characteristics,  f^xcept  the  huge  guide 
|iiers  erected  on  the  way  to  .Ste.  Anne's,  to  mark  and  preserve  the  channel.  Looming 
lit.'fore  us  in  the  mist,  w(;  can  see,  as  it  stretches  from  tlu-  mainland  of  Ontario  to 
the  Isle  of  Montreal,  the  great  bridge  of  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway.  In  order  to  avoid 
the  rapids  at  the  dcboucliement  of  the  Ottawa,  we  enter  a  canal  close  to  Ste.  Anne's 
nd    the   abutment   of   the    Grand    Trunk   bridge.     This  canal    is  about  the  eighth  of   a 


i86 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  UFH  AND   CHARACTER 


mile  long,  and  has  a   single   lock    near   the  railway  bridge.     It  was  constructed  in  place 
of  one  built  as  early  as    1816,  and   rebuilt 
in   1833  by  the  Ottawa    Forwardi 
pany,    who  made  some  difficulty 
ting  the  passage  of    vessels  not  c 
with  their  own  business.       This  c 
much    inconvenience,  that    the    Leg 
of  Upper  Canada  took  the  matter  i 
and  built  the  present  canal  at  Ste. 
Those  sentimentalists  who  last 
refused    to  sec   beauty   in    industrii 
ings    and  works,   who  wept 
over    steamships    profaning 
the    solitudes    of    Cumber- 
land   lakes,   and    could    see 


ATCH  TOWKR. 


#r' 


g    picturesque 
in    a    building    that 
was    not    a    castle   or    at 
least    a    ruin,  would    de- 
termine on  principle,  and 
beforehand,  that    there    could 
be    nothing    attractive    about 
a  mere    railwa\-  bridge.      Yet 
let   those  who    do  not    refuse 
to    see    Nature,  as    faithfully 
interpreted    by    Art,    consider 
how    even     this     magnificent 
lake   scenery   is    enhanced  by 
this     work,     no     less     magni- 
ficent,    of    human    enterprise 
and  skill.      On  six- 
teen    square     tow- 
ers   of    stone-work, 
each      massive     as 
the   keep   of  a  fort- 
ress,   is     supported 
the  viaduct  which  gives  passage  to  Canada's  most   important   railway.      As    the    steamer 
passes  under  with  lowered  funnel,  we  look  l^ack  on  the  lake  and  the  mainland  beyond  it. 
where,  far  over  the    St.   Lawrence,  the   summits,    'ndistinct  and  dim,   of   the    Adirondack 


REMAINS    OF     ANCIENT    CASTLE 


<Jkjl. 


THE  LOWER   OTTAWA  187 

Mountains,  mingle  with  the  clouds.  At  our  left  are  the  rapids — not  deep,  but  neces- 
sary to  be  avoided  on  account  of  their  shallowness.  Here,  on  rude  rafts,  stand  the 
shad-fi:ihers,  ready  to  spear  or  net  the  fish  which,  visiting  these  rapids  in  shoals,  come  to 
watch  for  food.  Poised  on  the  precarious  footing  of  a  couple  of  planks  fastened 
together  and  tossing  on  the  waves,  they  plunge  and  replunge  the  net,  not  seldom 
bringing  to  light  the  sparkling  and  leaping  fish,  whose  capture  is  to  these  poor  hahitans 
a  source  of  no  little  gain.  We  pass  under  the  bridge  and  through  the  lock,  where  a 
number  of  the  country-folk  are  lounging,  to  greet  the  steamer  and  her  cargo  of  pleasure- 
seekers.  The  male  liabila)it's  dress,  if  not  exactly  |)icturesque,  is  peculiar,  and  in  har- 
mony with  the  hot  weather  of  .\ugust.  As  a  rule  no  coat  is  worn  ;  waistcoat  and 
shirt-sleeves  and  loose,  baggy  trousers,  form  the  whole  costume,  and  it  is  dc  rigciir  that 
l)oth  hands  be  kept  in  the  trousers'  pockets.  The  head-dress  is  a  hat  with  narrow  rim 
and  high,  conical  top,  similar  to  those  popularly  believed  to  be  worn  by  magicians 
and  witches!  With  them  is  a  group  of  apple-women,  healthy-looking  dames,  with  short 
kirtles,  'kerchiefed  neck,  and  broad,  white  hats.  Here  we  find  for  sale  green  apples  of  last 
season,  yet  fresh  and  in  gooil  condition,  and  paper  bags  full  of  delicious  grapes.  Once 
more  we  disembark  to  stroll  through  the  village,  consisting  of  a  group  of  those 
pretty  Lower  Canadian  houses  no  poverty  can  make  unpicturesque.  In  the  midst 
of  these  is  the  church,  a  structun;  where  the  substratum  of  Gothic  is  varied  with 
the  features  so  strang(;ly  adopted  from  classical  architecture  by  the  art  of  the  Re- 
naissance. At  the  shrine  of  good  .Ste.  Anne,  the  pious  voyagcnr,  about  to  encounter 
the  perils  of  lumbering  or  river-driving,  comes  to  pay  his  vows  and  leave  his  modest 
offering  to  her  of  whom   the  mediaeval   poet  sang : 

"Anna  parii'  iris  Marias, 

UT    PR.r.mXIl     I'.SAIAS." 

We  enter  the  church.  Jean  or  Baptiste  is  kneeling  reverently.  Keenly  alive  to  the  misery 
of  parting  with  a  cent  of  his  hard-earned  wages  on  all  other  occasions,  here  he  is  liberal. 
It  is  a  scene  that  reminds  one  of  the  Middle  Ages,  nay,  of  more  primitive  faiths,  before 
the  ages  called  Christian. 

Having  passed  through  the  village,  we  reach  the  ruins  of  a  castle  built  Xo  defend 
the  island  at  this  point,  and  evidently  once  a  fortalice  of  considerable  importance. 
On  the  brow  of  a  hill  commanding  an  extensive  view  of  tiie  lake,  is  a  circular 
watch-tower,  loop-holed  for  musketry,  whose  broken  embrasures  once  held  cannon 
controlling  the  landing  and  approaches  to  the  castle  beneath.  Lower  down  and 
close  to  the  landing-place  are  two  castles,  built  after  the  model  of-  fortresses  of 
tlie  Middle  Ages — in  each  a  lofty  keep  or  central  tower,  quadrangular,  without 
windows,    save    the    narrow    aperture    through    which    the    arquebuse    of    the    defenders 


1 88 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


might  aim   securely  at    the    kirking    Iroquois  without.       The  rest    of   the   castle    consists 

of  high  walls  enclosiiijjf  space  sufficient  to 
shelter  the  women  and  chililren  of 
the  settlement  in  cast-  of  invasion, 
ami  this  aj;ain  protected  by  tlanking 
turrets.  Hoth  buildings  are  without 
ornament,  save  that  with  which  'i'ime 
has  invested  the  crumbling  ruins; 
gaunt  and  gray,  they  staml,  amid  the 
most  peaceful  scenes  that  our  world 
can    show,   the    memorials   of    a    Past 


which,  though  not  two 
centuri<;s  gone  by,  al- 
ready' seems  to  belon;^ 
to  the  Middle  Ages! 
Such  a  fortress  as  this 
would  have  been  proof  against  any  artillery  which  raiders  from  the  New  Kngland  colonies 
could  have  brought  against    New  France ;   against  the  Iroquois  it    was  impregnable. 


BACK    RIVER    BRmGE,    AND    SHAD     KISHING. 


THE   I.OUr.R   OTTAWA  i8y 

Ik-fore  us,  as  the  steamer  leav<:s  Ste.  Anne's,  lies  the  first  of  those  expansions  of  the 
Kiver  Ottawa  which  so  frequently  occur  throughout  its  entire  course,  the  Lake  of 
Two  Mountains.  The  larger  Mountain  was  named  "Calvary"  l)y  the  piety  of  the  first 
settlers.  In  the  continual  presence  of  the  terrible  clangers  which  threatened  those  who. 
as  one  of  them  said  of  the  Montreal  settlement,  had  thrust  their  hand  into  the  wolf's 
den,  the  founders  of  New  I'Vance  sought  everywhere  to  impress  on  the  land  of  their 
adoption  the  traces  of  that  religion  which  was  their  chief  comfort.  At  its  summit  were 
seven  chapels— the  memorials  (jf  the  mystic  seven  of  St.  John's  vision — the  scene  of 
many  a  pilgrimage,  where  gallant  cavalier  and  high-born  lady  from  their  fastness  at 
X'illemarie  toiled,  side  by  side,   up  the  same  wear\-  ht-ight. 

Near  this  we  visit  the  pretty  village  of  Oka.  whence  the  Indian  occupants  have 
been  wisely  removed  by  the  Dominion  (iovernment  to  Muskoka.  Their  cottages  still 
line  the  shore  beneath  the  shade  of  ancient  elm  trees;  a  large  cross  close  to  the  landing 
invites  the  contemplation  of  tht;  pious,  whih;  summer-houses  and  other  garniture  for 
pleasure-making  are  ready  for  the  holiday  folk  who  crowd  to  this  popular  summer  resort 
in  skiff  and  steamer.  To  this  class  belong  the  youthful  pair  whom  a  venerable  gray 
horse  conveys — neither  he  nor  they  being  at  all  in  a  hurry — along  the  Oka  road  in  one  of 
those  ancient  covered  calalics  used  in  this  part  of  Canada.  The  young  lady  is  driving  ; 
the  "hood"  of  the  vehicle  covers  both  of  them  from  a  passing  shower  or  from  the  gaze 
of  too  curious  eyes. 

We  steam  across  the  Lake  of  Two  Mountains.  It  is  an  irregularly-shaped  expanse 
of  water,  in  length  twenty-four  miles,  and  from  three  to  four  miles  wide.  Calm  as  are 
these  summer  lakes,  an  experience  of  a  sudden  squall  shows  how  the  usually  placid 
waters  can  be  lashed  into  furious  waves.  Suddenly  the  sky  is  overclouded,  the  moun- 
tains on  the  shore  seem  to  have  withdrawn  into  the  dim  distance,  the  woods  are  swathed 
ill  mist,  and  cpiick  and  sharp  descends  upon  our  deck  and  on  the  waves  around  us  the 
white  electric  rain.  We  meet  one  of  those  huge  barges  similar  to  those  we  saw  in  the 
l.achine  Canal.  How  its  heavy  hulk  rolls  and  labours  while  tlie  surf  breaks  over  it! 
Hut  the  strong  boat   is  seaworth)-,   and  the  steam-tug  in  charge  tows  it  heavily  on. 

The  country  on  (jur  left  consists  of  the  counties  of  X'audreuil  and  Soulanges  which, 
though  on  the  Ontario  side  of  the  Ottawa,  are  part  of  the  Province  of  Quebec.  In 
these,  as  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  the  I">ench  language  and  institutions  prexail. 
In  the  seigniory  of  Rigaud,  near  the  upper  portion  of  the  Lake  of  Two  Mountains, 
i^  a  remarkable  mound,  the  "  Montague  Ste.  Magdelaine,"  at  whose  top  is  a  quad- 
rangular area  of  some  acres,  covered  with  stone  boulders  arranged  by  a  strange 
laprice  of  nature  to  resemble  a  freshly-ploughed  field — whence  the  place  is  called 
'  Plnic  de  ntcrcts."  From  underLrround,  tlie  murmur  as  of  flowing  water  can  be 
distinctly  heard;  but  all  attempts  to  discover  the  cause  are  said  to  have  failed,  though 
the   earth    has    been    dug    to    the    depth    of    many    feet.        At    the    foot    of    this    moun- 


I  go 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


LUWl.K     Ul  lAWA     bCl-.NKS. 


THE  LO]VER   OTTAWA 


191 


o 


tain  on  th?'  lake 
sliorc,  l)('siclc  the 
moiitli  of  the  Ri- 
viere a  hi  (jraisse, 
is  the  pleasant  Ht- 
tle  hrench  xilhig^e 
of   Riband. 

At  no  threat 
distance  from  the 
north-eastern  side 
of  the  Lake  of 
Two  Mountains 
are  the  \'iilaij;-es 
of  St.  Eustache, 
Ste.  Scholasti(|ue 
antl  St.  Benoit — 
scenes  of  conflict 
ijetween  "  Patriots" 
and  "  Loyahsts  " 
in  the  trouhUnis 
times  of  '-^1'  wlien 
passions  were  ex- 
cited and  ^aUant 
citizens  wt;re  in 
arms  aj^ainst  eacli 
otiier  in  feuds, 
which,  thanks  to 
subsequent  wise 
government  and 
a  i)etter  state  of 
feeling,  are  now 
happily  as  extinct 
as  tli(;  wars  with 
the    Iro(]uois. 

Near  the  uj^per 
expansion  of  the 
lake  is  the  vil- 
lage and  headland 
called  "  Pointe  aux 


192 


FRENC-:  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


Anglais,"      whence 


forth    over   the  broad    expanse  *"    .     "- ssfe       ■^'x^'%a»'- 

of      desolate     moor,     shallows 

and     bush -covered      islets     in 

the   foreground,   and  stretchin(»-    far  and    wide    over    the    horizon    from    the    north    shore, 

the    dusky    shades    of    the     Laurentian    hills,    desolate    and     forbidding,     as    it    were    a 

wall    between    us    and    the    fertile    lands  beyond  them. 

At  Carillon  the  steamer's  course  is  once  more  barred  by  rapids,  to  avoid  which  a 
canal  has  been  constructed  ;  but  passengers  b)-  the  mail-boat  land  at  Carillon  and 
take  train  to  (irenville,  a  distance  of  twelve  miles,  whence  another  steamer  proceeds 
without  farther  interruption  to  Ottawa.  Opposite  Carillon,  at  Point  Fortune,  the  river 
becomes  tin;  boundary  line  between  the  two  Provinces.  At  the  Chute  au  Hlondeau  is 
another  canal  an  eighth  of  a  mile  in  length,  and  a  dam  has  here  been  thrown  across  the 
river,  which  so  pens  back  the  waters  that  only  a  passage  of  three-quarters  of  a  mile  in 
length  is  now  needed  to  reach  the  higher  level  above  the  chute.  Heside  the  Long  .Saull 
Rapid  is  the  Cjren\ille  Canal,  e.\ca\ated  for  the  most  part  through  solid  rock,  and  leading 
to  the  village  of  Cjrenville,  a  distance  of  six  miles.  These  three  canals  were  constructed, 
like  that  of  the  Rideau,  by  the  Imperial  Government  for  military  purposes.  Happily, 
there  is  no  prospect  of  their  being  needed  for  such  ;  and  even  should  necessity  arise, 
their  usefulness  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  superseded,  as  they  now  are,  by  the  opening  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  Canals  and  the  Grand  Trunk   Railway  on  the  front,  as  well  as  by  the 


THE  LOWER   OTTAWA  i93 

new  lines  of  railway  to  the  north,  which  make  our  intercommunication  secure  from  any 
foe.  Down  these  three  rapids — the  Carillon,  Long  Sault,  and  Chute  au  Blondeau — the 
lumbermen  descend  on  their  cribs  of  timber.  Formidable  as  this  feat  looks,  it  is 
frequently  accomplished  by  travellers  who  adventure  in  company  with  the  raftsmen, 
and  seldom  suffer    worse    consequences  than  a  wetting. 

In  these  rapids  Samuel  de  Champlain  nearly  lost  his  life  at  the  commencement  of 
his  first  expedition  up  the  Ottawa  from  Montreal  to  Allumette.  The  forest  along  the 
river  bank  was  so  impenetrably  tangled,  that  he  and  his  party  were  fain  to  force  their 
way  through  the  rapids,  pushing  and  drawing  their  canoes  from  one  point  to  another, 
While  thus  engaged  Champlain  fell,  and  would  have  perished  in  the  eddy  of  the  rapids, 
as  has  many  a  gallant  lumberman  since,  had  he  not  been  saved  by  the  friendly  help  of 
a  boulder  against  which  lie  was  carried. 

The  Pass  of  the  Long  Sault,  on  the  western  shore  of  these  rapids,  is  memora- 
ble as  the  scene  of  patriotic  self-devotion  not  unworth\'  to  be  compared  with  the 
achievements  of  a  Decius  or  a  Leonidas.  In  the  year  1660  the  PVench  colonists  of 
Villemarie  and  Quebec  learned,  with  dismay,  that  a  united  effort  for  their  destruction 
was  about  to  be  made  by  the  whole  force  of  the  Irocjuois  Confederacy.  Then  Uaulac 
des  Ormeaux,  a  youthful  nobleman,  with  sixteen  companions,  resolved  to  strike  a  blow 
which,  at  the  sacrifice  of  their  own  lives,  might  break  the  power  and  arrest  the 
progress  of  the  savage  foe.  Like  the  Roman  general  of  old,  they  clevoted  themselves 
to  their  doom  in  a  religious  spirit,  and  with  the  full  rites  of  the  Church  in  whose 
defence  they  were  about  to  die.  Where  then,  as  now,  the  roar  of  the  Long  Sault 
Rapids  blended  with  the  sigh  of  the  wind  through  the  forest,  they  entrenched  them- 
selves, with  some  two-score  Huron  allies  who,  however,  deserted  them  in  the  hour  of 
danger.  They  had  but  an  old  fortification  of  palisades,  which  they  endeavoured  to 
strengthen.  While  so  engaged,  the  Iroquois  fell  upon  them.  Through  successive 
attacks  they  held  at  bay  the  five  hundred  painted  savages  who  swarmed,  tomahawk  in 
hand,  up  to  the  very  loopholes  of  the  fort,  only  to  be  driven  back  by  the  resolute  fire 
of  its  defenders,  leaving  among  the  heaps  of  slain  their  chief.  Repulsed  again  and 
again,  the  Iroquois  deferred  the  main  attack  till  the  arrival  of  reinforcements,  who  were 
marching  on  Montreal.  For  three  days  Daulac  des  Ormeaux  and  his  handful  of 
gallant  followers  held  their  post  against  the  swarming  hordes.  At  length,  overwhelmed 
iiy  numbers  and  exhausted  in'  hunger,  thirst  and  sleeplessness,  they  fell,  fighting  to  the 
last,  leaving  but  four  survivors,  three  of  whom,  already  mortally  wounded,  were  burned 
at  once,  while  the  fourth  was  reserved  for  torture.  But  the  Iroquois  had  paid  dearU' 
for  their  success.  They  thought  no  more — for  a  time,  at  least — of  attacking  the  more 
formidable  armaments  and  fortifications  of  Montreal.  New  France  was  saved  by  this 
leed  of  patriotic  self-devotion.  Sacred  to  all  time  should  be  the  spot  which  such 
heroism  has  ennobled  ! 


194 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE   AND   CHARACTER 


til.lMl'SlS     (Jl       TIIK     LUUKK     U 1  lAWA— THE     l.LMHKR      IKADK. 


THE  LOWER   OTTAWA 


lo- 


At  Grenville  we  again  take  the  steamer,  anxious  to  penetrate  behind  the  wall  of  moun- 
tain ridge  which,  undulating  along  the  eastern  hank  of  the  river,  seems  to  f(jrbid  access 
to  the  country  beyond.  This  is  the  Laurentian  range,  composed  of  that  gneiss  which 
contains  the  earliest  fossil  remains  of  animal  life  as  yet  recognized  by  geologists.  We 
procure  a  canoe  and  a  guide  at  Grenville,  with  the  farther  necessary  equijimeiit  of  a 
wagon,  wherewith  we  make  our  way  along  the  main  road  to  Pointe  au  Chene,  on  the 
River  Rouge,  above  the  rapids  called  "  McGillivray's  Chute."  In  its  passage  through  the 
barriers  of    Laurentian  hills,   the   Rouge  cour-es  over  a  continuous  series  of  rapids  to  its 


RUNNING    THK     RAl'IUS. 


junction,  twelve  miles  distant,  with  the  Ottawa.  But  the  beauty  of  the  scenery  in  this 
region  of  mountain  and  lake  well  repays  the  trouble  of  travel  or  portage.  As  we  make 
our  way  among  these  hills,  so  sternly  repellant  from  a  distance,  we  meet  fertile  \  alleys, 
rapidly  being  cleared  and  made  into  cultivated  farms.  We  have  camped  in  the  woods, 
glad  of  shelter,  for  there  is  a  touch  of  frost  in  the  early  autumn  air.  Helow,  where  we 
stand  ready  to  launch  our  canoe,  are  the  rapids  of  McGillivray's  Chute,  plunging  and 
•xldying  over  the  wave-worn  boulders  ;  above  and  beyond,  the  calm  expanse  of  the  River 
Rouge,  mirroring  the  mountain,  bright  with  the  forest  foliage  kindled  into  rich  red 
gold  colour  by  last  night's  frost,  with  here  and  there  the  more  vivid  scarlet  of  the 
soft  maples.  For  some  miles  we  ascend  the  river  in  our  canoe,  which,  on  our  return, 
we  have  to  "-uide  through  rapids,  the  surges  foaming  around  us  as  we  pass  swiftly 
through  the  fretful  waters  in  the  shadow  of  the  silent  hills. 


H;t) 


I'RIiXCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


From  the  banks  of  the  Rouge  our  canoe  is  carried  to  the  shores  of  Lake  Coman- 
ileau,  or  "  Papineau, "  as  it  has  l)een  named  after  the  famous  leader,  near  whose  home 
at  Montebello  its  outlet,  the  Kinonge,  flows  into  the  Ottawa.  We  drive  by  a  very 
tolerable  road,  throuLjh  the  hill-country,  past  a  mountain  farm  at  the  head  of  Lake 
Comandeau.  The  homestead  and  farm  buildings  are  log-houses ;  the  land  is  roughly 
cultivated.  Beyond  it  lies  the  lake,  dark-blue  in  the  shadow  of  the  many-coloured 
hills  which  stretch  far  away  into  the  dimness  of  the  autumn  morning.  We  prepare  to 
launch   upon   the  lake  ;     ui)on   the  thickly-wooded    shore  our    canoe  lies   turned  up  in  the 


V//^ 

^^'"'''■..'.s*^; 


#i»»&-s":««i..-;..v 


-    ."\   '    'V 


^        ^^sV\   ■?      ■'■■^--  -'■■ 


MOUNTAIN     FARM. 


sun  to  dry,  to  have  the  seams  gummed  before  starting.  Near  by  is  another  canoe 
about  to  leave  the  shore,  while  farther  off  on  the  lake  is  a  third  midway  between  us  and 
the  opposite  side.  Beyond,  the;  mountains,  dusky  green  with  shadowy  woods,  melt  away 
into  the  morning  mists.  We  launch  our  canoe  ;  we  speed  along  over  the  stirless  water 
mirroring  the  hills  and  woods,  amid  islands  aglow  with  the  gay  livery  of  the  forest.  We 
reach,  far  off,  an  open  expanse  of  lake,  where,  amid  the;  shallower  waters,  the  speckled 
trout  are  wont  to  bask.  The  hills  in  the  distance  are  dusky  purple.  Near  us  is  an 
islet — the  trout-fisher's  favourite  haunt  ;  overhead,  a  huge,  dome-like  rock,  stained  with 
all  manner  of  shades — blue,   russet  and  yellow — under  the  encrusting  lichen  ;    at  its  side. 


THIi   I.OIVER   OTTAWA 


197 


high  above  the  yellow  larches,  the  tall  pines  throw  their  shadows  over  the  lake.  This 
beautiful  sheet  of  water  is  about  ten  miles  long  ;  its  surface  is  diversified  by  numerous 
small  islands,  and  the  mountain  scenery  amid  which  it  li(;s  gives  a  boldness  and  sub- 
limity unknown  to  Southern  lakes,  with  their  low-lying  shores. 

Again  pursuing  our  journey  up  the  Ottawa,  we  pass  L'Orignal — the  county  seat  of 
Prescott  and  Russell  Counties — at  which  village  thr.ee  of  our  passengers  leave  us  for 
the  medicinal  Caledonia  .Springs,  a  distance  of  some  nine  miles  inland.  These  springs 
arc    said    to  have    been    first  indicated  by  the  multitudes  of  wild   pigeons    that    gathered 


ON     Tin:     rOKTAClK— LAKH     CO.MA.NOKAU. 


near  the  spot.  Farther  on,  upon  the  Quebec  side,  deep  in  the  shadow  of  the  elm-wood, 
rise  tlu;  towers  of  what  seems  one  of  the  anticpie  cliateaux  of  (^Id  b'rance.  This  is  the 
home  of  Papineau,  the  leader,  through  stormy  times,  of  l-"rench-Canadian  Liberalism  ; 
one  whose  eloquence  was  as  remarkable  as  his  personal  character  was  worthy  of  admi- 
ration. The  feuds  of  those  days  are  extinct  ;  we  can  afford  to  remember,  with  pride, 
the  virtues  of  one  of  Canada's  ablest  sons.  The  beauty  of  this  chateau  of  Montebello 
has  been  worthily  celebrated  by  brechette  in  the  noble  tribute  which  his  muse  has 
addressed  to  the  memory   of   Papineau. 


igS 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


We    sail    on,    upon    the   sombre   bosom    of    the    stream,   onr   course    varied   by   the 
alternatinj^  narrowness  or  expan- 


sion of  th(!  Ottawa  ;  sometimes 
amonj^  islands  slumberous  with 
dark  verdure; ;  anon  iiu'(!tin]j^  a 
fleet  of  broad  river-barj^cs  laden 
with  the  piled-up  lumber,  and 
towed  ilown  stream  In-  the 
steam-tu(js  which  impart  their 
own  (juick  motion  to  the  inert 
mass;  or  a_c^ain  steaming  throuj^di 
wide,  shallow  reaches,  where  the 
fisher  plies  his  solitary  canoe, 
and  the  Canadian  boat-son_L,r  i-(^. 
calls  its  familiar  but  beauti- 
ful embodiment  by  Moore.  On 
our  risj-ht  is  the  dcbonchoncnt 
of  the  Riviere  du  Lievre — -a 
stream    of    great    importance    to 

the    lumber    trade — which,    through    a    course    of    350    miles,    drains    an    area   greater    in 
extent    than    some    European    kingdoms. 

About  a  mile  from  the  Capital  we  pass    the  mouth  of    the  Gatineau,    the   mightiest 


■-*<&;.-> 


MONTEBEI.LO— HO.MK    OK    I'Al'lNKAU. 


A    TOW    OK     LUMBER     BARGES. 


THE  LOWER   OTTAWA 


199 


TKOUT     KISHING     ON     I.AKK     COMANDliAU. 

of  the  many  tributaries  of  the  Ottawa,  which,  for  seven  miles  from  its  outlet,  is 
rendered  unnavigable  by  rapids.  But  we  are  already  within  the  precincts  of  the  city, 
and  disembark,  after  a  trip  which  has  opened  new  phases  of  picturesque  beaut)-  in 
a  country  hitherto — however  well  known  to  commerce — but  too  little  known  to  art. 


NORTH  SHORE  OF  THK  OTTAWA. 


300 


FRENCH   CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


m 


'■'■f 


(n  lAWA         I'AKI.IAMKNT     HL'1I.|)IN(  IS.      I  KOM      MAJORS     1111. 1. 


OTTAJFA .     inSTORICAr.   AMD   PHSCR/PT/J'R 


20 1 


A     FIRST     (IMMI'SK     OK     THK     CAPITAL. 


^ 


OTTAAVA. 


/CANADA,  young  as  she  is,  could  furnish  material  for  a  very  lively  chapter  on  the 
^^  vicissitudes  of  capitals.  Strategically  posted  at  Niagara,  tossed  backwards  and  for- 
wards, shuttlecock  fashion,  between  jealous  Toronto,  Kingston,  and  Quebec,  pelted  with 
paving-stones  and  burned  out  of  their  Chamber  by  an  exasperated  mob  at  Montreal,  her 
legislators,  thanks  to  the  direct  selection  of  the  Queen  herself,  found  refuge  in  a  certain 
modest  village-town,  perched  meekly  on  high  bluffs  and  intervening  valleys,  between  the 
spray  and  roar  of  two  headlong  river-falls.  The  town  of  "  By  "  became  the  city  of  Ottawa, 
the  peripatetic  carpet-bag  existence  of  government  officials  ceased,  and  the  nomad  tribes 
of  the  various  departments  settled  down  permanently  under  their  own  vine  and  fig-tree 
by  the  broad  stream  which  gives  its  name  to  the  spot. 


202  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

But  the  Ottawa  has  a  past,  and  to  the  hereditary  enmity  existing  between  two 
of  the  three  great  famihes  of  Indians  in  North  America  cast  of  the  Mississippi — the 
Iroquois  and  the  Algonquins — an  enmity  carefully  fostered  by  the  greater  rival  powers  of 
England  and  France,  added  to  the  allurements  of  commerce  in  furs,  is  due  the  important 
position  held  by  this  river  in  the  life  and  history  of  Canada. 

For  over  i6o  years  prior  to  the  memorable  8th  of  September,  1760,  when  with  the 
keys  of  Montreal  the  Marquis  De  Vaudreuil  surrendered  all  Canada  to  General 
Amherst,  the  blood  of  Wolfe  and  Montcalm  having  just  one  y6ar  before  signed  the 
deeds  which  gave  Quebec  to  England,  the  "  Kit-chi-sippi,"  the  "  great  river,"  as  it  was 
called  by  its  dusky  voyagaci's,  was  the  main  route  by  which  the  store  of  furs,  gathered 
through  the  long  w.nter  from  beaver-dam  and  haunt  of  moose  and  otter,  martin,  and 
silver  fox,  found  their  toilful  way  to  the  big  ships  of  the  traders  at  Tadoussac,  Quebec, 
and  Montreal.  How  cruel  the  history  of  this  long  line  of  mighty  waters,  these  ever- 
boiling  rapids,  tremendous  falls,  and  wide-spreading  lakes,  is  told  in  colours  of  blood 
in  the  writings  of  those  who  lived  through  the  terrible  period  when  civilization  was 
making  its  slow,  sure  way  into  this  virgin  world. 

To  secure  the  valuable  peltry  trade,  the  best  efforts  of  New  England  and  New 
York,  south  of  the  lakes,  and  of  the  "  company  of  merchant  adventurers  of  England, 
trading  in  Hudson's  Bay,"  were  directed.  New  France  was  not  behindhand,  and  her 
daring  conrcurs  dc  bois  penetrated  far  and  wide  through  the  vast  tract  between  Hud- 
son's Bay  and  the  lakes.  This,  the  cold  North,  was  the  great  fur-bearing  land,  and 
through  nearly  its  whole  extent  ran  the  mighty  stream  of  the  "  Outaouais,"  as  their 
French  allies  called  the  natives.  By  this  noble  stream,  difficult  and  dangerous  as  was 
its  course,  did  the  Algonquins — of  whom  they,  with  the  Hurons,  formed  part — from 
their  distant  territory  south  of  Lake  Superior,  hold  communication  with  the  French 
settlement  at  Montreal.  Relentlessly  driven  from  the  Lower  Ottawa  by  the  systematic 
incursions  of  the  terrible  Iroquois,  the  Ottawas  traversed  their  native  woods  and  waters 
in  fear  and  trembling.  The  better  portion  of  their  journey  down  the  "  Grand  River," 
from  the  falls  of  the  Chaudiere  (where  the  city  of  Ottawa  now  stands),  was  one  of 
incessant  danger  from  their  traditionary  foes.  Up  the  river  they  were  comparatively 
safe,  for  the  natural  difiiculties  of  the  turbulent  stream  mide  access  so  hard  and  retreat 
so  perilous,  that  the  Iroquois  preferred  to  await  them  at  the  falls,  or  to  attack  them 
still  farther  below,  when  the  most  desperate  fighting  would  not  ensure  safety  for  their 
hard-earned  cargoes  of  pelts  or  secure  themselves  from  the  cruelest  of  tortures  and  death 
at  the  hands  of  their  dread  foes.  In  1693  a  three  years'  accumulation  of  beaver-skins 
lay  at  Michillinackinac,  their  main  quarters  at  the  head  of  Lake  Huron,  and  the  Ottawa 
was  so  closely  barred  by  the  Iroquois  that  no  effort  could  be  made  to  take  them  down. 
The  loss  of  its  one  source  of  revenue  was  nearly  ruinous  to  the  young  colony.  At  last 
Count    Frontenac,  the  Governor,   caused    a    strong    escort  to   be    got    together,  and  the 


OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE  20 


J 


arrival  at  Quebec  of  two  hundred  canoes,  all  laden  with  furs,  told  that  the  long  blockade 
was  broken. 

Up  this  rive",  in  161 3,  Champlain  passed,  in  the  vain  hope  of  finding  an  open  north- 
west passage  to  the  spice  lands  of  Cathay,  till,  at  an  Indian  settlement  125  miles  above 
the  falls,  he  learned  that  his  reported  salt  sea  was  a  myth.  Three  years  later  he 
returned,  passing  into  Lake  Huron  and  so  to  Lake  Simcoe,  where  he  joined  the 
Algonquins  in  a  campaign  against  the  Iroquois,  the  return  journey  from  Lake  Simcoe 
to  Montreal  taking  forty  days. 

But  years  went  by  and  great  changes  came.  In  1800,  Philemon  Wright,  farmer, 
of  Woburn,  Massachusetts,  "  having  a  large  family  to  provide  for,"  came,  after  several 
visits  of  exploration,  the  first  of  which  was  made  four  years  previously,  back  to  the 
foot  of  the  Chaudiere,  the  "big  kettle,"  bringing  twenty-five  men  with  mill-irons, 
axes,  scythes,  hoes,  fourteen  horses,  eight  oxen,  seven  sleighs,  and  five  families  ol 
women  and  children,  together  with  a  number  of  barrels  of  "  clear  pork,  destitute  of 
bone,"  of  his  own  raising.  For  the  magnificent  sum  of  twenty  dollars,  the  Indians 
withdrew  their  objections  to  his  settlement,  and  finding  that  their  claims  to  the  land 
would  not  be  entertained,  a  certain  insinuating  appeal  for  an  additional  thirty  dollars 
being  refused,  the  poor  wretches  quietly  bowed  to  the  strong  will  of  the  Great  P^ather 
across  the  sea,  created  the  invader  a  chief,  kissed  him,  dined  with  him,  and  made  a 
compact,  kept  thenceforward  with  the  honesty  of  the  uncontaminated. 

Then  followed  a  long  line  of  busy,  useful  years,  all  tending  to  the  improvement  of 
his  new  domain.  Surveys,  road-making,  clearings,  plantings,  reapings  and  building  went 
steadily  on,  till  in  twenty-four  years  he  had  cleared  3000  acres  and  had  756  acres  in  grain 
and  roots,  and  in  1839  died  at  the  ripe  old  age  of  seventy-nine,  the  father  of  the  town 
of  Hull,  on  the  north  side  of  the  river. 

But  the  south  side,  whose  rough,  rocky  cliffs  had  offered  no  attractions  to 
the  adventurous  pioneer,  was  destined  to  far  outshine  his  settlement.  One  of  his 
employes,  named  Nicholas  Sparks,  was  lucky  enough  to  purchase,  for  a  trifling  sum, 
a  large  quantity  of  the  unprized  land ;  and  when,  as  a  strategic  issue  of  the 
American  troubles  of  181 2-15,  it  was  determined  by  the  Imperial  Government  to  con- 
struct a  line  of  canals  to  connect  the  St.  Lawrence  with  the  lakes  via  the  River 
Ottawa,  in  order  to  afford  means  of  communication  with  tide-water  free  from  inimical 
interruption,  Mr.  Sparks  sold  lot  on  lot  to  the  Government  and  to  enterprising  settlers, 
and  cleared  about  half  a  million  sterling.  So  "  Bytown  "  arose,  taking  its  name  from  the 
colonel  of  the  Royal  Engineers,  to  whom  the  construction  of  this  great  work  had  been 
entrusted.  For  some  years  it  grew  and  prospered  with  the  pecuniary  aid  of  the  mili- 
tary, the  canal  labourers,  and  the  lumber  trade — the  starting  of  the  latter  having  been 
due  to  the  indefatigable  Wright.  Tradesmen,  mechanics,  doctors,  lawyers,  and  all  the 
constituents   of    a    thriving   community  gathered  rapidly,  and  in   1851    the   town    boasted 


204 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFIi  AND   CIIARACTRR 


uni));k    DurrKRiN    hkiugk. 


eight  thousand  inhabitants,  and  the  place  still  continued  to  grow,  tiil  in  1865  the  seat 
of  (iovernment  was  transferred  to  it,  and  Bytown,  thenceforward  Ottawa,  became  the 
capital. 

The  city  of  to-day  is  a  city  of  varied  elements.  Th(;re  is  the  life  of  the  Govern- 
ment and  the  life  of  the  river ;  the  race,  language,  religion,  manners  of  the  cxiicia^ 
rt[<rii)tc  and  those  of  that  which  succeeded  it,  two  streams  of  dissimilar  character  in  source, 
which  are  content  to  How  in  one  channel  amicaljly,  but  unmixed.  The  city  may  prac 
tically  be  said  to  consist  of  one  h)ng  line  of  l)usiness  houses,  backeil  b\'  ganglia  ol 
residences  which  extend    some    three    miles    westward    to    the    Chautliere    I'alls    and    the 


OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL  AND   DRSCRIPTn'H 


ao5 


city  of  Hull,  and  eastward  towards  the  falls  of  the  Rideau  and  the  village  of  New 
Edinburgh,  on  the  right  bank  of  that  river.  In  its  centre  it  is  known  as  Sparks  Street, 
the  name  being  taken  from  that  of  the  actual  founder  of  the  settlement,  where  are  situ- 
ated the  leading  business  and  mercantile  establishments. 

The  key  to  the  main  place  of  the  city  is  a  [)oint  where  two  converging  bridges 
span  the  Rideau  Canal.  Standing  here  and  looking  west,  one  sees  to  the  left  the  old 
"  Sappers'  Bridge,"  a  solid  stone  structure  built  by  the  military  as  part  of  the  canal 
works.  To  the  right  is  the  "  Duffcrin  Bridge,"  a  new,  well-designed  viaduct  of  iron, 
which  gives  access  to  Wellington  .Street,  a  thoroughfare  of  noble  width,  containing  the 
handsome  stone  buildings  of  various  l)anks,  and  insurance  and  rail\va\'  offices.  Fronting 
tliis  street  is  the  long,  low  stretch  of  graceful  stone  and  iron  railiiig  with  its  massive 
gates  of  fine  iron-work  which  encloses  Parliament  Square  antl  the  magnificent  piles  of 
the  (u)vernment  buildings.  Immctliatcly  in  front  of  the  two  bridges  is  the  new  Post 
( )ffice  and  Custom  House — a  large  and  elegant  stone  etlifire  in  the  st\le  of  the  Re- 
naissance— which    is    one    of  the  architectural   features  of   the  cit\'. 

Turning  his  back  upon  tlu;  Post  Office  and  looking  east,  the  visitor  sees  a  broad 
roadway — Rideau  .Street — extending,  (,)n  a  gentle  acclivity,  a  couple  of  mih's.  This  street 
is  HiuhI  with  stores  and  pri\ate  houses,  and  on  either  side  cluster  systems  of  streets 
containing  residences — those  on   the   left,  sloping  down   lowartl   the   river,   beuig  known  as 


I'UST     UlllCK,     A.M)     nriTKRlN     AM)     SAI'l'KKS'     HKllHji:. 


206 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


OTTAIVA:    HISTORICAL  A\D  DESCRIPTIVE 


207 


HEAU    Ol"    THE     LOCKS-RIUEAU    CANAL. 


Lower  Town,  while  on  the  hisj^her  irround  to  the  right  Hes  the  fashionable  district,  b)-  no 
misnomer  called  Sandy  Hill.  Here  are  comfortable  and  often  handsome  and  extensive 
villas,  the  more  distant  of  which  command  charming  views  of  the  adjacent  country  and 
ihe  valley  of  the   Rideaii   River. 

Here,  also,  occupying  a  considerable  extent  of  ground,  is  the  ritle  range,  a  site  of 
some  importance,  owing  to  the  fact  that  it  is  the  scene  of  the  annual  meetings  of  the 
Dominion  Rifle  Association,  and  thiit  bt^fore  its  tw(Mity  targets  the  best  shots  of  the 
country  compete,  selecting  from  their  numl«;r  the  team  which  is  yearly  sent  to  contest  at 
Wimbledon  with  the  crack  shots  of  Great  Britain.  During  the  week  of  the  shooting,  the 
I'ity  is  in  a  state  of  martial  furore ;  coats  o(  red,  dark-green  and  gray,  are  seen  every- 
where ;  the  white  tents   of  the  association  and  of   the  different  competitors  picturesquely 


208 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


clot  the  ground  ;  and  the  incessant  crack  of  the  rille,  the  strains  of  miHtary  bands,  the 
bright  dresses  of  ladies,  and  the  general  charm  of  the  unusual,  give  all  the  proceedings 
an  animation  for  which  the  social  world  is  the  association's  debtor.  It  is  a  widely 
ramified  institution,  practically  representing  all  the  Provinces,  and  is  the  centre  of  every- 
thing appertaining  to  military  rifle  practice  in  the  country.  It  is  also  an  admirable  ex- 
ample of  good  organization,  every  detail  of  its  work  being  thoughtfully  brought  to  the 
highest  point  of  perfection. 


RIOEAU     CANAL     LOCKS. 


Coming  back  again  to  the  bridge,  a  hundred  yards  off  on  the  left,  with  a  sharp 
turn,  runs  Suffolk  Street.  Here  we  enter  a  section  of  the  city  almost  exclusive!}' 
I'rench,  with  French  proprietors  and  French  characteristics ;  the  baker  becomes  a  bou- 
iaiiorr,  the  lawyer  is  avocat,  and  uiarchandiscs-scchcs  obligingly  translates  itself  into 
"  dry-goods,"  for  the  benefit  of  the  un-F"rench  world.  On  this  street  is  a  big  three-store} 
cut-stone  building  recently  purchased  by  Government  for  the  purposes  of  a  Geological 
Museum,  the  materials  for  which  were  all  ready  to  hand  in  Montreal.  This  promises  t(i 
constitute  a  very  durable  adjunct  to  the  means  of  information  possessed  by  the  city.  Suf- 
folk Street  contains  also  the  French  Cathedral,  a  large  and   imposing  building,  of  the  local 


OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL   AND  DESCRIPTIVE  209 

gray-blue  limestone,  whose  capacious  interior  is  resplendent  with  gilding  and  wood-carv- 
ing, the  result  of  recent  extensive  improvements.  This  is  the  main  centre  of  the  French 
and  Roman  Catholic  element.  The  neighbouring  streets  are  filled  with  rows  of  small, 
clean  and  tidy  cottages,  whose  good-natured  inhabitants  uso  the  old  tongue  of  La  Belle 
France,  and  are  descendants  of  those  early  voyagcurs  and  chanticrs  whose  traditionary 
pursuits  on  the  ever-beneficent  bosom   of  the  Ottawa  they  still  largely  follow. 

Beyond  the  French  Cathedral,  the  road  approaches  the  river,  and  runs  parallel  with 
it  till  the  Rideau  is  reached  at  a  point  just  above  the  spot  where  it  plunges  in  two 
graceful  "curtains"  of  water  to  supplement  the  greal  stream  of  the  Ottawa,  forty  feet 
below.  Here  is  the  suburban  village  of  New  Edinburgh,  and  here,  too,  is  the  entrance 
to  "  Rideau   Hall,"  the  local   name  for  Government   House,   of  which  more   hereafter. 

Reverting  to  our  stand  at  the  junction  of  the  bridges,  and  still  turning  our  backs 
to  the  Post  Office,  there  lies,  on  the  immediate  left,  the  entrance  to  the  Public  Gardens^ 
a  long  stretch  of  prettily-planncid  walks,  grass  and  flower-beds,  with  frecjuent  rustic 
seats — which,  though  still  in  incomplete  form,  is  one  of  the  favourite  summer  evening 
lounges  of  the  citizens.  Below,  runs  the  deep  gorge  through  which  the  waters  of  the 
canal,  by  a  magnificent  series  of  locks,  have  been  led  to  join  the  Ottawa,  and  beyond 
the  locks  rises  the  precipitous  wooded  slope  of  Parliament  Hill;  and  the  vast  pile 
of  the  "  1-^uildings,"  whose  graceful  outline,  sharply  marked  out  against  the  bright 
sky  of  tile  on-coming  evening  and  the  western  sun,  is  a  never-ceasing  charm  to 
the  eyes  of  the  strollers  on  the  garden  cliffs. 

Crossing  the  .Sappers'  Bridge  and  passing  the  Post  Office  on  our  right,  we  come 
upon  Elgin  Street — whose  name,  as  befits  the  capital,  is  a  memorial  of  an  ex-Governor — 
and  the  new  City  Hall,  a  large  building  of  blue  limestone,  containing  the  various  city 
offices  and   the  machinery  for  carrying  out  the    civic  system. 

P'ollowing  Elgin  Street  a  few  hundred  paces,  a  fine  piece  of  open  ground  is  met  with 
— Cartier  Square — named  in  honour  of  the  illustrious  Canadian  statesman  under  \\hose 
leadership  the  Conservative  Government  for  many  years  held  steady  sway.  Here  is  the 
great  public  meeting-place.  Reviews  of  troops,  j)opular  gatherings,  the  rejoicings  of 
festival  days,  foot-ball  and  lacrosse  matches,  find  ample  accommodation.  At  the  far 
end  stands  an  enormous  red-brick  building — the  drill  shed — under  whose  noble  span  a 
regiment  may  perform  its  evolutions  in  comfort,  while  commodious  sections  are  fitted 
up  as  repositories  for  the  several  arms  of  the  militia  and  volunteer  force  centred  in 
Ottawa.  On  one  side  of  the  square  stands  a  very  extensive  pile  of  buildings  in  stone, 
of  graceful  design — the  Normal  School — one  of  the  apices  of  the  Government  educa- 
tional system  of  the  Province  of  Ontario  ;  and  close  by  is  the  Collegiate  Institute.  In 
this  neighbourhood  is  found  the  rising  "  West  End  "  of  the  community.  Villa  residences 
of  fine  proportions  and  design,  surrounded  by  well-kept  gardens,  have  sprung  up  in  all 
directions.       Streets  which    but    five    or    six    years    ago    were    bare    fields,  are    now    lined 


2IO 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  IJFE  AND   ClfARACTF.R 


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OTl'AU^A:    HISTORICAL   AA'D  DRSCRIPTI\'H  211 

with  handsome  biiildiiiws  of  hiick  arul  sloiu-,  and  the  hitherto  scattered  wealthy  home-life 
of  the  city  seems  to  be  adoptinsj^  at  last  the  principle  of  segregation,  which  is  the  feature 
of  the  greater  hives  in  all  countries. 

Retracing  our  steps  ah^ng  I'Llgin,  hack  to  Sparks  Street,  we  follow  the  course  of 
the  street  railway  towards  the  Chaudiere  Falls,  till  Upper  Town  is  left,  with  its  busy 
shop-life,  and  passing  the  water-works  at  Pooley's  Hridge,  enter  u|)on  another  phase  of 
the  city^the  all-important  element  of  lumber.  The  air  becomes  hulen  with  a  pleasant, 
healthy  smell  of  pine -wood,  and  the  stores  we  pass  are  (ilU'd  with  matt'rials  of  a  very 
matter-of-fact  character — stout  woollen  jerseys  and  shantyman's  boots,  notal)le  rather  for 
great  capacity  for  honest  work  than  for  any  extreme  elegance  of  build  ;  huge  saws, 
circular  monsters  of  brobdingagian  proportions,  with  teeth  of  the  most  ap[)alling  dimen- 
sions, and  perpendicular  giants  of  unequalled  good  temper,  whose  ungentle  mission  it  will 
be  to  eat  their  placid  and  indifferent  way  through  many  a  stout-hearted  monarch  of  the 
woods  ;  axes  of  the  brightest ;  chains,  '•  cant  dogs,"  peculiarly-shaped  instruments  for 
canting  over  logs  into  place,  and  the  spike-pole,  the  lumberman's  "  best  companion." 
These,  and  barrels  of  rough-looking  but  most  palatable  pork,  his  staple  food,  form  tiu> 
main  contents  of  the  stores  of  this  quarter.  Life's  luxuries  have  vanished,  its  realities 
have  full  possession. 

As  we  near  the  saw-mills  the  harsh,  strident  buzz  of  countless  saws  is  heard.  This, 
day  and  night,  in  the  "running  season,"  is  the  cry  of  the  ruthlessly-sundered  logs,  or 
the  querulous  gamut,  up  and  down,  which  runs  never-endingly,  the  voice  of  the  labouring 
but  ever-victorious  saw.  Upon  every  point  of  rock  near  the  Chaudiere  Falls,  and  upon 
acres  of  massive,  wooden,  stone-filled  embankments  connecting  them,  to  which  the  upper 
waters  could  be  led,  there  have  been  reared  the  huge  mill  structures  of  the  lumber 
kings.  Flour,  cement  and  wool  have  also  claimed  a  share  of  the  illimitable  water-power. 
Here,  overhanging  a  precipitous  fall — there  built  out  on  mighty  piles — everywhere  mills. 
In  all  directions  the  waters  have  been  boldly  seized,  cunningly  coaxed,  audaciously 
dammed  up  ;  sluices,  bulkheads,  slides,  everywhere,  everything  is  chaotically  watery.  Yet 
all  is  the  very  essence  of  order  and  of  nice  adjustment  of  means  to  ends,  a  very  triumph 
of  triumphant  water  slavery.  The  result  is,  that  the  greater  part  of  the  tremendous 
stream — here  a  mile  broad  at  least — is  compelled  to  traverse  the  main  fall  about  forty 
feet  high,  and  to  escape  through  the  principal  channel,  about  240  feet  wide,  across  which 
a  light  but  strong  suspension  bridge  has  been  cleverly  thrown,  connecting  Ottawa  with 
Hull — the  Province   of  Ontario  with  that  of  Quebec. 

In  the  construction  of  a  bridge  at  this  difficult  point  the  persistency  of  Bruce's  spider 
has  been  emulated.  Fifty  years  ago  there  was  no  bridge,  and  the  boiling,  tumbling  waters 
of  the  falls  a  hundred  yards  above  rushed  headlong  through  charming  tree-covered  islands, 
i'l  all  the  picturesque  freedom  of  undisturbed  nature.  In  1827,  when  the  first  steps 
were  being  taken  for  the  building  of  the  Rideau  Canal  locks,  and  little  Bytown  began  to 


212  rRliXCIl  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

look  up  in  the  world,  the  shot  of  a  cannon  carried  from  rock  to  rock  across  the  whirlinjj^ 
stream  a  small  rope  ;  this  rope  was  the  parent  of  much  emleavour,  of  repeated  failure;, 
but  of  ultimate  success.  iMuallj',  in  iS4_^.  the  |)resent  stout  structure  was  reareil,  aiul 
from  its  tremulous  pl.-itform.  in  all  the  wild,  ceaseless  din  of  fallinj^  waters,  rush  ol 
yellow,  foam-covend  vvavef,  and  veil  of  niist\-  spra\-,  one  looks  at  ease  into  the  once 
mystic  ,ind  awful,  i-ut  now  ni<  rely  picturesepie  tumble  and  toss  of  livin^c  water,  the 
famous  Chaudicre.  ihdf  a  mile  above,  the  lon^,  graceful  lines  of  a  new  and  substantial 
iron  railway  brid>;e  "f  elev(>n  iiuge  spans,  give  farther  evidence  of  the  masterj-  of  man 
over  this  once  wild  spot. 

On  the  right,  beyond  a  broad  area  of  brownish,  gray-coloured  rock,  bare  in  the  dry 
summer  tinie,  but  covered  with  down-rushing  water  in  the  river-swollen  days  of  spring, 
are  mills  an..'  still  nio'-e  mills,  and  an  immense  factory  for  the;  production  of  matches  anil 
pails — one  oi"  the  "  eights  "  of  the  locality.  On  the  left,  perched  high  on  a  labyrinth  of 
monster  piles,  by  which  the  giant  iVirce  of  the  river  has  i)een  damnu-d  u[)  and  curbed,  runs 
a  long  line  of  big  saw-mills,  and  entering  these,  the  unearthly  din,  made  up  of  whirr,  bu/z 
and  shriek,  becomes  absolutely  deafening.  ilere  is  the  home  of  the  saw,  and  anything 
more  curiously  fascinating  than  the  aspect  of  the  place,  with  its  crowd  of  ever-bus)' 
workers,  the  rapid  up-and-down  dance  of  the  tremendous  saws,  can  scarcely  be  imagined. 
Set,  thirty  or  more,  frauKid  in  a  row — those  terrible  instruments  form  what  is  called  a 
"gate" — and  towards  this  uncompromising  combination  the  logs,  having  first  been  drawn 
from  the  water  up  an  inclined  plane,  deftly  handled  and  coaxed  into  position,  are  irre- 
sistibly impelled,  one  succeeding  the;  other,  uay  and  night.  I''or  a  moment  the  glittering 
steei  dances  before  the  forest  innocent,  a  veritable  "dance  of  death;"  then,  with  a 
crash  and  a  hiss,  the  ugly-looking  teeth  make  the  first  bite,  ami,  for  tive  or  six  minutes, 
eat  their  way  steadily  through  the  tough  fibre,  till  that  which  entered  the  jaws  of  the 
machine  a  mere  log.  emerges  in  the  form  of  sawn  planks,  which  a  few  more  rapid  and 
simple  operations  convert  into  v.'ell  trimmed  and  salable  lumber,  ready  for  the  piling 
ground  and  the  markets  of  America  and   Kurope. 

The  scene  at  night — for  work  continues  both  by  night  and  day — is  extremely  novel 
and  picturesque.  .Some  of  the  lumbering  firms  now  use  the  electric  light,  and  the  effect 
in  that  pure,  clear  glare,  is  of  the  most  Rembrandt-like  character.  The  contrast  betwecMi 
the  ilarkness  outside,  and  the  weird  unearthly  figures  of  the  busy  crowd  ot  workers ; 
the  dark,  rough  backs  of  the  dripping  logs,  as  they  are  hauled  up  from  the  water, 
catching  the  reflection,  and  the  sharp  llash  of  the  steel  as  it  dances  up  and  down — all 
contribute  to  make  a  picture  of  the  horrible  which  Vv'ould  captivate  the  pencil  of  Don- 
and  give   Dante  a  new  idea  for  a  modern   Inferno. 

Amongst  the  novel  experiences  which  the  city  offers  to  its  visitors  is  the  descent 
of  the  "  slides,"  whereby  the  hardships  of  the  lumberman's  life  become,  for  a  few  excitini: 
moments,  the  attractive  sport  of  venturesome  seekers  of  strange  thrills.     The  timber   for 


077AIIA.     ///S7VRICAL   AXJ)   PliSCRlinn  E 


'3 


'M' 


CHAUDli'.KK     lAl.l.S,     AM)     SL'SI'KNSION      HKIUGK. 


2  14 


I'RIiNCH  CANADIAN  LlFli   AND   CUARACTER 


I  II  MDIKr.K     I-A1.L3. 


which  the  spcfial  jtrovision  of  slides  is  made 
is  no  mere  roiiLjh  Vy^,  but  has  been  carefully 
hewn  scjuare  in  the  woods,  formin_i(  oreat  beams,  destined 
for  soliil  piles  or  massive  buildini;-  work.  l'"or  the 
avoidance  of  the  unmerciful  i^^rindiiiL;'  and  batt(;rint;-  on  jiiiJ^jJ^ed  rocks  which  passage 
over  the  falls  would  entail,  lon<r,  smooth-bottomed  channels  of  massi\e  wood  and 
stone-work  have  bt^en  built,  leading  from  the  high  level  above  to  the  wat(.'rs  below, 
the  inclination  l)(;ing  sufficient  to  bring  the  limber  safely  down,  carefully  made  up  into 
lots  calK'd  "cribs,"  containing  souk;  twenty  "sticks"  of  various  lengths,  but  of  an  uniform 
width  of  tw(;nty-four  feet,  to  tit  the  slide.  The  desciMit  is  made  at  a  pace  which,  with 
the  ever-present  possibilitv  of  a  break-up,  gives  a  ver)-  respectable  sep-,e  of  excitement 
to  a  novice.  There  is  but  little  attempt  at  fastening,  the  buoyancy  of  the  timber  and 
the  weight  of  three  or  four  of  the  heaviest  beams  obtainable  being  sufficient,  as  a  rule, 
to  hold  the  mass  together. 

lust  at  the  head  the  ailventurous  vovaovurs  hurriedly  (Miibark,  the  crib  being  courte- 
ously iield  back  for  a  moment  for  their  convenience.  Under  direction,  they  perch  them- 
selves upon  the  highest  timber  in  the  rear,  out  of  the  way  as  far  as  possible  of  u[jrushing 
waters,   and  the  huge  mass  is  cleverly    steered  by    the  immense  oars  which    are   used  for 


OTTA II :  I .    IIISTORHAI.   .  \  .\  P   DF.SL  RIPTll  7: 


-^>5 


tlic  purpose,  towards  the  entrance!  of  the  cliiitc  Ahead  for  a  (piarter  of  a  mile  app<;ars 
I  narrow  channel,  down  whicli  a  shallow  stream  of  water  is  constantly  rnshinj^f,  with  lujrc 
and  there  a  drop  of  some  live  or  eiifht  ft^et  ;  the  ladi(  s  _L,Mllur  up  their  j^^armcMits,  as  the 
crib,  now  hey^innini;"  to  feel  the  current,  takes  matters  into  its  own  hands;  with  rapidly- 
(piick(Miin^  speed,  the  unwiekly  craft  passes  under  a  liridi^c,  and  with  a  eroaii  and  a 
mighty  cracking  and  splashing;',  phnisj^es  nose  foremost,  and  tail  hi;^h  in  tlu;  air,  o\cr  tlu! 
hrst  drop.  Now  she  is  in  tlu;  slitle  proper,  and  iIk;  pace  is  exhilarating;^  ;  on,  over  tlur 
smooth  timbers  she  glides  swiftly ;  at  a  bridge  ahead  passers-by  stop,  and  waxings  of  friendly 
handkerchiefs  are  interchanged.  Now  comes  a  bigger  drop  than  the  last,  and  the  water, 
as    we    go    over,  surges    up    through  our  timiiers,   and  a  shower  of  spra)'  falls  about  us. 


CKIH     Ol'      ILNUniR     KU.NMMj      lllh     hl-liU. 


A  delicate  "Oh!"  from  the  ladi(;s  compliments  this  (effort.  Never  mind;  a  little  wetting 
was  all  in  this  day's  march.  Another  interxal  of  smooth  rush,  and  again  a  drop,  and 
yet  another.  Ahead,  there  is  a  gleam  of  tossed  and  tundjleil  water,  which  shows  th<' 
end  of  the  descent ;  down  still  we  rush,  and  with  one  last  wikl  dip,  which  sends  the 
water  spurting  up  about  our  feet,  we  have  reached  the  bottom,  cleverly  caught  on  a 
floating    platform    of    wood,    called    the    "apron,"    which    prevents    our    plunging    into 


2i6  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

"  full  fathoms  five."  We  have  "  run  the  slides."  Now,  out  oars,  and  soon,  strikinjr 
into  the  powerful  current  which  has  swept  over  the  falls  behind  us,  we  are  lyinj^ 
moored  by  the  side  of  some  huge  raft  containing,  perhaps,  a  hundred  of  such  cribs 
as  ours,  and  worth  over  $100,000,  where  the  process  of  "re-making  up"  is  going 
on,  preparatory  to  the  long,  slow  tow  down  the  broad  waters  of  the  Ottawa  to  .Ste. 
Anne,  where  the  whole  work  of  separation  has  to  be  gone  over  again.  Again,  too,  at 
Lachine,  the  whole  raft  is  dismembered,  and  the  dangers  of  those  terrible  rapids  must 
be  run  with  no  assistance  from  slides,  before  the  calm  bosom  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
can  bear  our  timbers  to  the  tall  ships  of  frowning  Quebec  and  the  chances  of  Atlantic 
storms. 

For  us  now,  not  unwilling  to  accept  the  hospitality  freely  extended  to  all  visitors, 
there  is  the  pleasant  red  fire  of  the  raft  to  stand  b\-,  and  the  tin  pannikins  (carefully 
cleansed  in  our  honour)  filled  from  a  huge  and  ever-simmering  cauldron  of  blackest  tea 
brew  :  there  is  bread,  new  and  white  enough,  and  vigour-giving  pork  and  nourishing 
beans,  all  of  which  Jules,  chcf-dc-cuisinc  of  the  craft,  offers  us  with  hospitable  thought 
and  a  pleasant  smile,  showing  his  white  teeth  the  while.  Jules'  dubiously  agreeable 
mission  is  to  fill  the  ever-empty  forty  or  fifty  hearty  and  healthy  giants  who  com- 
pose the  crew,  and  as  they  begin  work  and  breakfasting  at  daybreak,  the  generous 
pots  must  always  be  ready  to  supply  food  till  far  on  in  the  night.  Such  pon- 
derous and  much-worked  machinery  requires  big  furnaces,  and  the  fuel  must  be  at 
hand  at  all  hours.  We  drink  our  tea  and  praise  the  bread — bringing  thereby  a  glow 
of  satisfaction  to  the  brown  cheek  of  our  kind  cook — and,  if  allowed,  present  a  small 
doHCcnr ;  then,  with  a  hand-shake  and  a  ho)i  c'0]'(7i;r,  we  step  ashore  and  leave  our  craft 
to  its  fate. 

This  descent  of  the  slides  is  a  feature  so  peculiar  to  the  city  that  all  her  illustrious 
visitors  are  introduced  to  its  charms  as  a  matter  of  course.  The  Prince  of  Wales,  Prince 
Arthur,  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis,  Lord  and  Lady  Dufferin,  and  Lord  Lome  with  the 
Princess  Louise,  L^v'e  all  undergone  the  ordeal  with  much  success  and  amusement,  and 
have  thereby  entered  the  ranks  of  the  initiated  into  the  craft  of  the  raftsmen.  P'arther 
than  this  slight  playful  flirtation  with  a  difficult  and  dangerous  life,  the)'  would  not 
probably  care  to  venture. 

A  simple,  kindly-hearted,  easily-amused  race  of  men  are  these  same  stalwart  sons  01 
the  forest,  the  rapid,  and  the  stream.  Given  plenty  of  work  and  l)lent^•  of  food,  and 
having  unlimited  fresh  air  and  consciences  the  most  unburdened,  the  labours  of  the  da\- 
find  sufficient  relief  in  nightl)-  gatherings  round  the  huge  fires  of  the  raft  or  shant)-. 
Some  will  certainly  be  found  who  can  tell  a  good  story,  dance  a  cunning  if  nois)'  jig, 
or  sing  one  of  the  many  (piaint,  childish,  but  often  touching  airs  which,  floating  down 
intact  from  the  [jrimitive  days  of  the  early  JM'ench  rule,  still  delight  the  voyaocnrs  of 
to-day.       Perhaps  it   is  the  story  of  the  (rois  beaux  canards,  who,  swimming  in   the  pond, 


OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIl'H  217 

are  shot  at  by    the  fib  du  roi,  so  ludcliant  with  its  Hkely  but  inconsonant  chorus  of   the 
"roHing  ball";    how  the  white  duck  fell,  and 

"  Par  CCS  ycHx  lui  sort'nt  des  diamants 

En  ronlant  ma  houlc. 
Et  pay  cc  bcc,  For  ct  l'ars;cnt, 
Rouic,  ronlant,  ma  hoiilc  ronlant  ; 

En  ronlant  ma  bonlc  ronlant, 

En  ronlant  ma   bonlc" 

is  a  tale  known  wherever  the  shantyman  has  set  foot.      Or  perhaps  the  praises  of  their 
snug  halting  place,   "  Bytown,"  are  sung.     Thu.s —  i 

"  A   Bytoion  ccst  unc  jolic  place 
Ou  1 1  s'ramass   ben  dla  crasse  ; 
Ok  ya  dcs  jolics  filles 
Et  anssi  dcs  jolts  gar  cons. 
Dans  Ics  chantiers  nons  hivernerons" 

Popular  amongst  their  songs  is  that  of  the  famous  Marlborough,  hero  of  la  belle 
fiation,  by  virtue  of  his  five  years'  service  with  Turenne ;  and  the  air  "  Malbroitgh  s 
I'n  va-t-cn  gncr-re"  queerly  surviving  with  us  as  wedded  to  the  words,  "  We  won't  go 
home  till  morning,"  has  startled  the  drinking  deer  of  many  a  river  bend  on  many  a 
misty  morning.  Hut  chief  of  all  stands  the  tender  "A  la  clairc  fontainc T  with  its 
sad  lover  of  the  weeping  heart  and  lost  mistress,  which,  it  is  said,  all  the  Canadian 
world,  from  the  child  of  seven  to  the  white-haired  man,  knows  and  sings.  These 
are  the  songs  which  can  still  be  heard  from  the  brow  of  Parliament  Hill,  on  the 
warm  summer  evenings,  floating  up  from  the  monster  rafts  which,  ever-gathering,  lie 
moored  at  its  wood-fringed  base  ;  links  are  these  songs,  binding  the  river  of  the  Past 
to  the   river  of  To-day. 

Beyond  Major's  Hill,  or  rather  at  its  extreme  end,  is  Nepean  Point,  a  rival  to  the 
big  rocky  promontory  io  the  westward,  upon  which  the  Parliament  Buildings  stand. 
Here  is  the  saluting  battery,  from  which,  on  certain  high  "white  stone "  days,  the  curl 
of  smoke  and  boom  of  big  guns  tells  of  a  fresh  birthday  for  the  Queen,  or  for  the 
young  Dominion,  or  of  the  state  visits  of  England's  representatives  to  the  Senate,  or  of 
the  opening  or  closing  of  Parliament.  From  this,  of  all  the  many  points  from  which 
the  "  Buildings"  can  be  viewed,  they  present,  perhaps,  the  most  picturesque  aspect.  Suffi- 
ciently near  to  be  taken  in  as  a  whole,  and  yet  far  enough  off  to  be  merged  in  the 
grace-giving  veil  of  the  atmosphere,  their  effect  in  the  warm  glow  of  tlu;  sun  as  it  sets 
in  the  west  is  simply  delightful  to  the  painter's  eye.  Bit  by  bit  their  dainty  towers  and 
pinnacles  and    buttresses  fade  out    in  the    subdued  tones  of    evening,   changing  from    the 


2l8 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


"  symphony  '\\\  rea  '  to  a 
"  harmony  in  graj,"  tiil  moon- 
Hght  makes  them  aii  glorious 
as  a  "  nocturne  in  silver  and 
black." 

But    the  centre — the    heart 
— of    Ottawa    lies,    of   course, 
in     its     Parliament     and     De- 
partmental   Buildings.      Com- 
menced    in     1859,    the     first 
stone  was  laid  by  the   Prince 
of  Wales  in   i860,    and 
they  were   occupied    in 
1865,    though  much   re- 
mained to  be  done  after 
that   date ;     the   library 
and     an     extension     of 
one    of   the   blocks,  the 
grounds,       and 
the      surround- 
ing   walls    and 
railings,       hav- 
ing been  subse- 
quently   added. 
In  their  present 
form  they   cost 
fully    five    mill- 
ion dollars,  and 
cover    an    area 
of     about    four 
acres.  They 

f  o  r  m  three 
sides  of  a  huge 
squan.',  which 
is  laid  down 
in  grass,  beau- 
tifully kept, 
whose  fresh, 
green     surface. 


OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


219 


IROM     MAIN     liNTRANCP:     UNUKK     CENTRAL     TOWER. 


crossed  with  broad  paths,  stands  above  the  level  of  Wellinirton  Street,  from  which  it  is 
separated  by  a  low  stone  wall  with  handsome  railiny^  and  spates.  Rising  above  this 
s(]uare,  on  a  stone  terrace  with  sloping  carriage  approaches  on  either  side,  the  grea*" 
central  block,  with  a  massive  tower  220  feet  high  in  the  centre,  faces  the  square.  This 
building,  three  store\s  in  height,  has  a  frontage  of  forty-seven  feet  and,  like  the  sister 
buildings  on  either  side,  is  built  in  a  style  of  architecture  based  on  the  Gothic 
of  the  twelftli  century,  combining  the  elements  of  grace  and  simplicity  which  the 
climate  of  the  country  seems  to  re([uire.  A  cream-coloured  sandstoni^  from  the 
neighbouring  district,  to  which  age  is  fast  adding  fresh  beauty  of  colour,  with 
arches  over  the  iloors  and  windows  of  a  warm,  red  sa:idstone  from  Potsdam  and 
dressings  of  Ohio  freestone,  has  been  happil\-  employed^the  effect  of  colour,  apart 
from  form,  being  most  gratc^ful  to  the  e\-e.  This  building  contains  the  two  Cham- 
bers— for  the  Commons  and  tin;  Senate— and  all  tlie  accommodation  necessar)-  for 
the  officers  of  both    Houses.       The    Chamber  of   the  Commons   is   an    oblong  hall,   fitted 


22u 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  UFJ:    AN/)    CHARACTER 


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OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL   AND  DESCRIPTIIE 


22  I 


with  separate  seats  and  desks  for  the  members,  the  Speaker's  chair  beinir  placed  in 
the  middle  of  one  side,  leavinn  a  somewhat  narrow  passage-way  from  which  on  either 
hand  the  desks  of  the  members  rise  in  tiers.     The  ceiling  is  supported  by  graceful  clus- 


MAIN     lUlI. DINGS,     llOUSliS     Ol"     I'ARL1A>»!:NT. 


ters  of  marble  pillars  -four  in  each — and  a  broad  galler\-  runs  round  the  Chami)er  which, 
on  important  nights,  is  crowtled  with  politicians,  ladies,  members  of  deputations  and 
others  interestetl,  from  all  parts  of  the  Dominion.  The  debates  would  be  more  appre- 
ciatetl  b\'  tin;  pui)lic  if  tin:  sp(.;akers  couKl  be  belter  heard,  though  perhaps  such  a 
statement  implies  a  comi)liment  that  should  be  limited  to  a  select  few  of  the  members; 
but,  as  with  so  man\'  other  buililings  intended  for  public  speaking,  the  Chamber  was 
constructed  without  reference  to  an\'  principles  of  acoustics.  l'"e\v  of  the  speeches  de- 
livered in  the  House  can  be  called  inspiring.  In  fact,  when  not  personal,  they  an;  pro- 
saic. This  can  hardh'  be  helped,  for  a  Canadian  Parliament,  like  Congress  in  the 
United  .Stales,  deals,  as  a  rule,  with  matters  from  which  oidy  genius  could  draw  inspi- 
ration. 'Idle  I""rench-Canadian  mend)ers,  in  consequenc>.,  probably,  of  the  classical  training 
that  is  the  basis  of  their  education,   are  far  superior  to  their  English-speaking    coii/rdrcs 


22  2  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND    CffARACTFR 

in  accuracy  of  expression  and  grace  of  style.  Hven  wlien  they  speak  in  English  these 
qualities  are  noticeable.  The  Senate  Chamber,  which,  with  its  offices,  occupies  the  other 
half  of  the  huge  building,  is  of  precisely  the  same  architectural  character,  the  colouring 
of  carpets  and  upholstery  being,  however,  of  crimson,  and  the  seats  being  differently 
arranged  ;  the  throne,  occupied  by  the  representative  of  Her  Majesty,  is  at  tli<;  far  end, 
on  a  dais  of  crimson  cloth  ;  and  in  front  of  it  is  the  Sneaker's  chair.  Here  the  cere- 
monies  connected  with  the  opening  and  closing  of  Parliament  take  place — the  former 
being  an  event  of  much  importance — indeed,  one  of  the  leading  incidents  of  the  life  of 
the  capital.  It  is  a  pretty  sight,  with  the  gay  uniforms  of  the  military,  the  rich  dress 
of  the  ministers,  the  scarlet  gowns  of  the  Supreme  Court  judges,  and  the  varied 
toilets  of  the  ladies.  It  is  usually  followed  in  the  evening  by  the  holding  of  a  "  draw- 
ing-room," at  which  the  strict  rules  of  eticpiette  which  govern  European  assemblages 
of  the  kind  are  dispensed  with,  and  any  one  who  desires  can,  by  complying  with 
the  ordinary  requirements  of  every-day  domestic  life  as  to  evening  dress,  be  present, 
and  make  acquaintance  with  the  representative  of  the  Crown  in  most  simple  and  re- 
publican  fashion. 

Behind  the  two  Chambers  is  situated  the  Parliamentary  Library,  a  building  of  ex- 
ceptional architectural  grace  externally.  Flying  buttresses  of  great  strength  and  beauty 
give  a  distinctive  character  to  the  structure,  while  its  lofty  dome  is  a  landmark  far  and 
near.  Inside  it  is  fitted  with  all  possible  regard  to  convenience,  the  workmanshii)  being 
of  elaborately-carved  wood,  and  comprising  cunningly-devised  recesses  for  reading  purposes, 
with  rooms  for  the  librarian  and  his  staff.  In  the  centre  is  a  noble  marl  le  statue  of 
the  Queen,  executed  by  Marshall  Wood.  Marble  busts  of  the  Prince  and  Princess  of 
Wales  are  prominent  treasures  of  the  room.  In  its  ch.icf  librarian,  Dr.  Alpheus  Todd, 
it  possesses  a  head  whose  standing  as  a  writer  upon  constitutional  law  is  recognized  in 
all  parts  of  the  world.  The  remaining  buildings,  on  the  east  and  west  sides  of  the 
square,  are  occupied  by  the  several  departments  of  the  Government,  and  are  well 
adapted  to  meet  the  present  requirements.  The  east  block,  which  contains  the  office  of 
the  Governor-General  and  the  Chambers  of  the  Privy  Council,  possesses  at  its  entrance 
a  tower  of  graceful  design,  which  very  favourably  impresses  the  spectator  from  Elgin 
Street,   to  whose  e)-e    it  gives    the  first  intimation   of  the   vicinity  of  the  buildings. 

Running  entirely  round  the  three  blocks  of  the  Parliament  and  Departmental 
buildings  is  a  broad  drive,  and  at  the  sides  and  in  rear  of  the  library,  the  grounds, 
like  those  in  the  front,  are  laid  out  in  handsome  and  well-planned  llower-beds,  with 
great  stretches  of  green  lawn,  overlooking  the  cliff.  Here,  from  a  pretty  summer- 
house  erected  close  to  the  edge  of  the  precipitous  slope,  a  widelj-  conmianding 
view  is  afforded  of  the  broad  stream  of  the  Ottawa  to  the  east  and  west.  Immense 
rafts  are  being  made;  up  in  all  directions ;  steamers  and  tugs  ply  up  and  down,  tak- 
ing  big  barges,    laden    with  lumber,    to    the    markets  of    the    world,  or   toilfully    working 


OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


223 


their   way    up    the  rapid    current    with    the    burden    of   a  lontj  "tow"  of   empty  ones  re- 
turnini;  to    the    yards  to 
be  reloaded. 

On  the  other  side  is 
the  cit)-  of  Hull,  and 
farther  down  the  river 
is  the  mouth  of  the 
Gatineau,  itself  a  L^reat 
river,    whose    banks    are 


TOWER    OF    EASTERN     BLOCK,     DEPARTMENTAL    BUILDINGS. 

studded  here  and    there  with  (jueer  clusters  of  wooden  cottages,  which  the  spring  freshets 
annually  transform  into  lacustrine  dwellings  of  most  grotescpie  discomfort.     Over,  far  away, 

"Where  the  siimiy  eiul  of  evening  smiles — 
Miles  and  miles," 


is   the    range   of    hills,    the    outcrop    of     the    old    Laurentians,    known    as    the    King's 


2  24  FRENCH  CANADJAiX  IJFJi  AND   ClfARACTRR 

Mountain,  where  are  all  manner  of  deliirluful  haunts  f(ir  th(;  artist — tiny  lakes  and 
seared  and  inoss-n^rown  cHffs  w-mX  hu^c  houKU'rs  -places  where  man  is  yet  a  slranj^^er  and 
the  whistle  of  the-  locomotive  ,i.  far-distant  horror  of  the  future.  The  \alle_\-  of  tin? 
Gatineau  is  mar\  (■llousl\-  rich  in  mineral  wealth — phosphates,  iron  ore  of  the  |)urest 
plumbago,  mica,  antl  almost  all  known  \arieties  of  minerals  are  found,  thoujj^h  discovery 
in  this  direction  is  \et  in  its  infancy.  Tlu;  lirst  three  are,  howc;\er,  somewhat  extensively 
mined,  and  only  await  the  advent  of  capital  to  become  a  source  of  y^reat  wealth  to 
the  nciti^hbourhood.  This  is  a  countr\-  rich,  too,  in  jirizes  for  the  botanist  and  ento- 
molot^ist,  while  the  river  boasts  of  rajjids  and  falls  which  would  deliij^ht  the  eye  ot  the 
painter,  so  <;racefully  picturt'scpie  are   their  manifold  surginj^s  and  l(;apin(;s. 

Besides  tlut  (iatineau  and  the  hilly  ran^c;  in  front,  tin;  summer-house  ogives  a  \iew 
to  the  west  far  up  tlu;  ( )ttawa  till,  nine  mih's  off,  the  shimmer  of  light  shows  a  broail 
surface  of  smooth  water.  Lac  du  Chene  is  one  of  the  man\-  expansions  of  the  noble  river, 
beside  which,  snugly  nestled,  lies  the  village  of  A\lmer,  a  great  centre  for  summer 
excursions,  being  only  twenty  minutes'  run  from  the  cit\-  by  train.  l^elow,  at  our  feet, 
there  runs  all  the  way  round  the  steep  slope  of  Parlianumt  Mill,  a  delightful  winding 
path — the  "  Lover's  Walk  " — cut  out  of  the  hillside.  A  more;  charming  stroll  for  man 
or  maid,  lover  or  misanthrope,  could  not  be  wished  for.  Shut  oft  from  the  city  life 
and  embowered  in  trees,  whose  cool  shade  makes  the  hottest  day  bearal)le,  the  fortunate 
Ottawaite  can  here  "laze"  himself  into  a  state  of  tlri;amy  contentment.  Through  bri-aks 
in  the  foliage  the  silver  river  gleams,  busy  and  beautiful,  a  luintlred  feet  below  ;  the 
white  stems  of  the  birch  gracefully  relieve  the  sombre  gleam  of  hemlock  and  the  fresher 
tints  of  the  maple,  all  for  him.  Birds  talk  to  him,  sing  to  him.  The  oriole,  with  its 
uniform  of  black  and  orange,  pauses  a  moment  to  wish  him  well,  and  a  bright  gleam 
of  greenish-blue  shows  him  the  kingfisher,  far  too  busily  engaged  for  talk.  Perhaps 
the  momentary  hovering  of  a  tiny  ball  of  emeraltl  and  sapphire  and  opal,  and  a  soimd 
as  of  an  overgrown  bumble-bee,  shows  the  presence  of  a  humming-bird ;  while  from 
some  near  bough  the  "Canada  bird"  repeats  its  tenderly  sjmpathetic  note — "Poor 
Canada,  Canada,  Canada!"  with  most  evidimt  irrelevancy  and  possible  chaff.  From  the 
mills  of  the  Chaudiere  come  the  faint  buzz  of  tlu;  saw,  and  the  noise  of  th(!  "  Big 
Kettle."  which  is  well  seen  from  th(;  "  Walk."  All  this  in  the  golden  haze  of  a  sum- 
mer's afternoon  I     Who  shall  say  that  (Ottawa  is  not    beautiful? 

But  when  the  summer  has  worn  away,  antl  the  frost  in  the  chill}-  autumn  nights 
has  "  bitten  the  heel  of  the  going  )-ear."  and  the  sensitive  leaves  of  the  maples,  stricken 
to  death  by  the  first  breath  of  winter,  (Mid  th(;ir  brief  lives  in  an  exquisite  fever 
thish,  making  wood  and  hillside  a  very  painter's  feast  of  rich  colour,  Ottawa  begins 
to  prepare  for  the  second  phase  of  her  existence,  her  merry  winter  season.  Then  comes 
the  first  snow  fall,  and  soon  the  cheery  ting-tang  of  sleigh-bells  makes  gay  music  for  a 
gay  white  world,   and   the   rumble    and    dust   of    her  summer  streets  have  gone  for  a  five 


OITA II  \l .     ///STOA'/C  >//.    .  I.\7)    I'liSCRIPrn  li 


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2  26  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

months'  spell.  Steamers  and  tugs  and  barges  are  laid  up  in  her  once-busy  stream,  and 
the  sluggish  waters  thicken  with  the  increasing  cold  till,  bit  by  bii,  the  tiny  ice  crystals 
knit  themselves  into  a  solid  coat  two  feet  in  thickness,  and  the  (Jttawa  is  bridged  from 
shore  to  shore. 

That  the  winter  in  Ottawa  is  emphatically  wiulcr,  and  no  half-hearted  compro- 
mise, there  is  not  a  shadow  of  doubt,  and  therein  lies  its  charm.  No  vacillating  slush 
and  half-melted  snow  in  the  streets,  no  rain  and  fog  in  the  air — all  is  hard  and  white 
and  clear  underfoot,  while  overhead  there  is  the  purest  of  blue  skies,  which  night  trans- 
forms into  the  most  glorious  of  diamond-studded  canopies. 

Here  now  flock  from  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic,  a  thousand  miles  away;  from 
Manitoba,  the  hopeful  centre  of  the  Dominion  ;  from  beyond  the  towering  barriers  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  three  thousand  miles  distant ;  and  from  many 
a  city,  town,  village  and  homestead  between — the  legislators  of  the  land.  The  ordinarily 
quiet  streets  are  busy  with  life,  the  hotels  are  all  crowded,  and  the  lobbies  of  the  Par- 
liament Buildings  are  haunted  by  those  peculiar  gentry  who  gather  together  round 
dispensers  of  patronage.  Dances,  dinners,  balls  and  theatricals  follow  in  quick  succes- 
sion. Visitors  on  business  and  visitors  on  pleasure  come  and  go,  and  the  work  and 
play  of  a  whole  year  is  compressed  into  three  stirring  months ;  the  noble  piles  of  the 
public  buildings  are  brilliant  with  light,  while  far  into  the  night  the  many-coloured  win- 
dows  of  the  "  Chambers "  throw  gay  reflections   on  the  snow  outside. 

The  chief  centre,  as  is  fitting,  of  all  winter  hospitality,  is  Government  House  ;  and 
in  the  occupants  of  the  "Hall"  Canada  has  long  had  representatives  of  her  dignity, 
who  have  worthily  maintained  her  character  as  a  generous  and  hospitable  country,  and 
the  care  which  grudges  no  pains  or  cost  to  give  pleasure  has  its  own  reward  in  the 
kindly  feeling  which  invariably  follows  acquaintance  with  the  simple-mannered,  self-for- 
getting lady  and  gentleman  who  stand  at  the   head  of    Canadian  society. 

Government  House  is  about  two  miles  from  the  city.  Past  the  Rideau  Falls,  the 
road  leads  on  through  the  village  of  New  Edinburgh  to  the  lodge  gates.  Down  this 
road,  in  the  winter  of  1880,  the  horses  attached  to  the  sleigh  which  was  conveying 
H.  R.  H.  the  Princess  Louise,  to  hold  a  drawing-room  in  the  Senate  Chamber,  bolted,  over- 
turning the  sleigh,  dragging  it  a  considerable  distance  along  the  frozen  ground.  This 
accident  resulted,  unhappily,  in  severe  injury  to  the  illustrious  lady.  Once  through  the 
gates,  a  drive  of  a  few  hundred  yards  through  a  pretty  bit  of  native  woodland  leads 
to  the  house.  Half  way  up  this  drive  the  Princess  has  caused  an  opening  to  be  cut 
in  the  woods,  known  as  the  "  Princess'  Vista,"  through  which  a  lovely  view  is  afTorded 
of   the  broad   stream   of   the    Ottawa  and  the  shore  and   distant  hills  beyond. 

Utterly  devoid  of  any  attempt  at  architectural  style — a  piecemeal  agglomeration  of 
incongruous  brick,  plaster,  and  stone,  "  Rideau  Hall  "  or  Government  House  is  at  once 
one  of  the  most  unpretentious  and  disappointing  yet  comfortable  of   residences.     Set   in 


OTT.Iir.l:    UlsrORlCAL   AM)   PESCRIPTH'E 


2-7 


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22S 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


THE     PRINCESS'    VISTA. 


a  delightfully  varied  area  of  grass,  garden,  and  forest,  comprising  nearly  ninety  acres  of 
land,  the  building  presents  an  aspect  the  most  commonplace  to  the  visitor,  who  sees 
only  the  bare  wooden  porch  of  the  doorway,  flanked  on  the  right  by  the  tennis  court 
(which  by  a  charming  transformation  does  duty  as  a  supper-room),  and  on  the  left  by 
the  ball-room.  But  the  pleasantness  of  the  place  lies  in  the  yet  unseen.  Away  back  from 
that  unprepossessing  central  doorway  stretches  a  long,  gray-stone,  two-storied  building, 
whose  rooms  look  out  upon  flower-gardens  and  conservatories,  and  which  has  all  those 
delightful  surprises  in  the  way  of  cosy,  oddly-shaped  apartments,  such  as  buildings 
which  have  grown,  bit  by  bit,  from  small  beginnings  so  often  possess. 

Besides  the  never-ending  round  of  balls,  dinners  and  general  entertaining,  for  which 
Government  House  is  famous,  there  is  the  range  of  out-of-door  fun  ;  and  here   come   in 


OTTAirA:    HISTORICAL  AND  DliSCRIPTIVE  229 

skating,  curlinjr,  and  above  all,  the  tobogjran.  Out  of  Canada  or  Russia,  the  delights 
of  the  toboggan  slide  are  but  matters  of  imagination.  Nowhere  else  can  the  swift  down- 
ward rush  into  the  strong,  healthy  embrace  of  the  frosty  air,  over  the  glossy,  white  surface 
of  the  hardened  snow  be  enjoyed  ;  and  the  very  best  of  Canadian  slides — barring  the 
somewhat  dangerful  Montmorency,  and  perhaps  the  glacis  of  Fort  Henry  at  Kingston — 
is  at  Government  House.  Here,  in  the  grounds,  reared  on  a  high  moimd,  there  rises 
far  above  the  tree-tops  all  through  the  summer  a  huge  bare  structure  of  stout  timbers, 
from  the  summit  of  which  descends,  at  a  steep  angle,  a  boarded  trough,  ending  with 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  which  winter  sees  snow-covered  and  the  centre  of  laughter  and 
most  hearty,  healthful  fun.  This,  and  two  fine,  smooth  areas  of  well-kept  ice,  and  a  long, 
covered  rink  for  the  benefit  of  curlers,  are  among  the  attractions  to  hundreds  of  guests 
of  the  House  through  the  winter  season.  It  is  a  merry,  jolly  scene,  when  the  rinks  are 
crowded  with  skaters  performing  all  manner  of  intricate  figures  and  dances,  while  the 
sharp  hiss  and  clink  of  the  steel  forms  a  cheery  accompaniment  to  the  roar  and  rush 
of  the  toboggan  as  it  sweeps  down  with  its  laughing  load  and  vanishes  far  away  under 
the  distant  trees. 

To  the  Canadian  the  toboggan  is  as  familiar  as  a  household  word  :  but  for  the  benefit 
of  the  uninitiated,  it  should  be  e.xplained  that  it  is  a  thin  strip  of  wood  about  two  feet 
wide  and  six  or  eight  feet  long,  curled  up  in  front  to  throw  off  the  snow,  the  "form"  being 
maintained  by  thongs  of  deer's  sinew.  Upon  this  a  well-padded  cushion  or  buffalo-skin 
'S  fastened,  and  the  result  is  a  toboggan  of  luxury.  To  be  comfortable,  one  should 
be  prepared — the  object  being  to  keep  out  the  fine  snow  from  a  too  intimate  relationship 
with  the  body.  A  pair  of  thick  woollen  stockings  and  moose-skin  moccasins  over  the 
feet,  a  blanket-coat  of  white  or  blue,  and  a  tuque  (or  habitant's  long  cap)  on  the  head, 
or  one  of  fur  well  jammed  down  over  the  ears,  with  long,  fur  gauntlets,  makes  a 
capital  costume.  The  ladies  are  charming  in  gay  blanket  coats  of  red  or  white  or  blue, 
or  warm  fur  mantles,  with  snug  white  "cloud?"  wound  coquettishly  over  their  fur  caps. 
Most  bewitching  is  this  Canadian  tobogganning  dress,  bringing  such  piquant  effect  to 
a  pretty  face  touched  with  the  ripe,  rich  glow  of  health,  as  makes  mere  ball-room 
beauty  commonplace.  The  toboggan  is  a  most  accommodating  vehicle.  Charming 
as  a  carrier  of  two,  it  is  delightful  with  three,  and  four  can  go  down  on  it  with  comfort. 
Having  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  slide  by  a  series  of  steps,  the  party  prepares  to  de- 
scend. The  garments  of  the  gentle  freight  are  carefully  tucked  in  and,  seated  one 
behind  the  other,  the  steerer  last,  ready  either  with  hand  or  with  foot  outstretched  , 
behind  to  guide  the  erratic  craft.  Letting  go  their  hold,  with  the  swoop  of  an  eagle 
and  a  harsh,  grating,  crash  and  crackle,  down  they  rush  at  the  rate  of  twenty  miles  an 
hour,  cutting  the  sharp,  keen  air  which,  in  return,  almost  takes  their  breath  away ; 
bounding  headlong  over  any  irregularities  in  the  road,  past  the  foot  of  the  hill  in  a 
twinkling,  where  a  crowd  of   spectators   stands    ready    to    applaud    success    or    laugh   at 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE   AND   CHARACTER 


mishap,  and  flashing  along^ 
the  smooth  white  track 
beyond  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  or  more  till  the  speed 
slackens,  and  they  spring 
up  hurriedly,  to  leave  the 
path  clear  for  the  next 
jolly  party  which  is  close 
on  their  heels.    Sometimes 


and,  indeed,  frequent- 
ly enous^h,  there  is  a 
spill ;  the  tohofffjan  is 
ill-balanced,  some  one 
moves  to  rioht  or 
left,  or  the  preceding 
tobogyjan  has  scored 
too  deep  a  curve  in 
the  snow,  and  in  a 
moment  the  whole 
party  is  sent  flying  at 
all  manner  of  queer 
tangents,  but  no  harm 
is  done.  There  is  a 
good  deal  of  laugh- 
ing, much  brushing 
ofT  of  the  snow-dust, 


OTTAWA:    HISTORICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE 


231 


iVjpw-'ii^-TT 


,  iSSS'WfSEEW.*': s-tIB™!- 


•5,  >  \i  .  iT "'        — '  ' 


•;(M'^ 


and — "better    luck    next    time."     It    is    half    the 
fun     being    occasionally    upset,    and,    indeed,    it 
takes    some    skill    and    much    good     fortune    to 
ensure    a    successful    run.       Lortl    Lome,   besides 
building   a    second    and    loftier   slide,    has    introduced    a    new    charm — tobogganning    by 
torchlight — and    a    more  quaintly  fairy  picture    could   not    be    desired    than    this   affords. 
Hundreds  of   Chinese  lanterns  dot  the  trees  or    hang  in  festoons,  while  the  long  course 
is    outlined    with    flaming    torches,    and    a    monster    bonfire    throws    a    ruddy    glow    over 
everything.       Hot  mulled  wine  and  coffee    and  the  music  of    a   military  band    make    the 
charm  complete,  and  supper  puts  the  perfecting  touch  to  Canada's  great  winter  pastime. 
Into  this  merry  sport,  as  into  all  others  which    the    bright    Canadian    winter    offers, 
the     Princess    enters    with    the    hearty    zest    of    her    simple,   unaffected,  womanly    nature, 
laughingly  beguiling  her  more  timid  guests  into  essaying  the  descent  with  her,  and   suc- 
cessfully "taking  them  down."     Both   the  present   Governor-General  and  his  predecessor, 
throwing  the  same  energy  into  their  play  as  into  their  work,  have  been  the  life  and  soul 
of    rink    and    slide  ;    and    the  natural,   home-like  life  of   the    "  Hall,"  which  so  many  hun- 
dreds have   shared,   is  at  its  brightest  in  these  constantly-repeated  gatherings. 

Such,  then,  is  Ottawa  in  its  several  aspects  of  social,  political,  and  business  life — the 


Fair  city  with  its  crown  of  towers," 


as   Lord   Dufferin  happily  styled  her.      Picturesque  she  cannot  fail  to  be,   for   nature    has 
made  her   so ;    a   power   she    must   be    for   good    or   bad,  throughout   the    land,  for    her 


232 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


fortunes  have  so  willed  it.  Holding  in  her  midst  the  centred  force  of  a  whole  people, 
and  being,  by  virtue  of  her  strange  wild  past  and  noble  present,  the  link  that  binds  the 
old  to  the  new— the  experience-taught,  sober  Old  World  across  the  sea  to  the  fresh 
energy  and  restless  vitality  of  this  great  young  continent — may  she  prove  worthy  of  her 
honours!     May  the  bells  of  the  capital  of  the  Dominion  ever — 

"  Ring  out  a  slowly-dying  cause, 

And  ancient  forms  of  party  strife ; 
Ring  in  the  Jiohler  modes  of  life 
With  sweeter  manners,  purer  laws." 


VICE-REGAL    CHAIR,     SENATE    CHAMBER. 


THE   UPPER   OTTAWA 


2.53 


THE    UPPER    OTTAWA 


• 

rf^' Art-' -;-"'"■ 

-j^TBq 

Mi^ 

'^^t?^^'*:; 

^^^ '    ^iJ'-i^::  jSi-^iC-;  -^'.,«rt^   4^1         .                       . 

-     "UV*-;'.",'! 

s^j-4»w^-51i»'      y_-_^-^^    -»   , 

r  ^^--^^^  -  ^^^^ 

"^^^^--^^^-^--^^ 

-     r-..4-^ 

■j^^sHG^^^^B 

T~*HE  attractions  of  the  city  to  which  the  Ottawa  River  has  given  a  name,  its 
political,  social,  and  commercial  importance,  lead  many  to  limit  their  interest  to 
that  part  of  the  river  which  lies  below  the  Chaudiere.  Yet  the  Upper  Ottawa 
presents  an  unbroken  panorama  of  scenery  scarce  to  be  rivalled  in  Canada,  if  on 
the  American  continent ;  scenery  that  changes  from  the  pastoral  calm  of  unruffled 
river  and  lake,  fit  mirror  and  bath  for  the  yet  unscared  Dryad  of  the  woods,  which 
alternate  with  wheat-field,  farm,  and  village — to  the  torrent,  whirling  trees  like  play- 
things ;  the  cascade  leaping  in  silver  shaft  from  the  precipice ;  the  archipelago  of  five 
hundred  islets ;  the  still,  dark  depth  of  current  under  Oiseau  Rock ;  the  broad,  navigable 
stream  between  mountains  clad  with  primeval  forest, — to  where  the  locomotive  of  the 
new-built  railway  outscreams  the  eagle  amid  the  lonely  hills  of  Mattawa.  The  scenery 
of  the  Upper  Ottawa  is,  perhaps,  the  least  known  in  Canada.  It  is  still  in  very  many 
places  as  wild,  as  unmarked  by  the  presence  of  man,  as  when  Champlain  discovered  it. 
Yet  it  is  full  of  promise  for  the  wealth  and  civilization  of  the  future  ;  unlimited  wood- 
supply  and  water-power ;  land  that  bears  the  finest  of  cereals ;  marble  that  already 
decks  the  Chambers  of  our  National  Parliament ;  with  hills  and  cliffs  in  whose  womb 
lie,  awaiting  birth,  the  most  useful  of  the  economic  metals.  Such  are  but  a  few  of  the 
natural  advantages  of  this  part  of  our  country. 

Nor  is  the  scenery  without  historic  associations  of  interest.  From  the  earlier  times 
it  was  the  great  water  highway  of  the  Indian  race,  who  knew  no  better  road  for  their 
hunting  expeditions.     Its  true  Indian  name  was  the  "  Kit-chi-sippe,"  of  which  the  French 


234  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

"Grande  Riviere"  is  a  mere  literal  translation;  "sippi,"  or  "sippe,"  meaning  water,  as  in 
"  Mississippi,"  and  many  other  Indian  names. 

The  name  "Ottawa"  was,  according  to  the  best  Indian  authorities,  the  appellation 
of  a  tribe  of  Algonquins  whom  the  French  voyagcurs  met  on  the  river,  although  their 
real  home  was  on  Lake  Michigan — the  word  signifying  "the  human  ear,"  a  tribal 
title.     A  portion  of  this  tribe  occupied  the  territory  near  Calumet  and   Allumette. 

The  modern  history  of  the  Upper  Ottawa  begins  with  the  illustrious  discoverer 
who  first  led  the  way  on  its  waters  to  the  great  lakes  of  the  West  —  Samuel  dc 
Champlain — of  whom  mention  has  elsewhere  been  made  in  this  work  as  the  Father  of 
New  France  and  the  Founder  of  Quebec  and  Montreal.  An  embassy  from  the  Algon- 
quins of  the  Ottawa  had  asked  his  aid  in  their  war  with  the  Iroquois,  who,  inhabit- 
ing what  is  now  New  York  State,  were  a  kind  of  pre-historic  Annexationists  in 
their  desire  to  add  to  their  own  country  what  is  now  Canada.  It  was,  all  through, 
Champlain's  policy  to  make  the  Algonquins  subjects,  converts  and  soldiers,  against  the 
Iroquois  heathen.  And  when  a  Frenchman  of  his  party,  named  Vignan,  who  had  passed 
up  the  river  in  the  Algonquin  canoes,  returned,  after  a  year  in  the  Upper  Ottawa  region, 
with  a  wonderful  story  of  a  great  lake  at  the  source  of  the  Ottawa,  and  of  a  river  beyond 
it  that  led  to  the  ocean,  Champlain  was  captivated  by  the  tale.  All  the  gold  of  India 
and  the  spice  islands  of  the  Orien.  seemed  brought  within  the  reach  of  France.  On 
Monday,  the  27th  day  of  May,  161 5,  he  left  his  fort  at  Montreal  with  a  party  of 
five  Frenchmen— including  Vignan — and  a  single  Indian  guide,  in  two  small  canoes. 
Carrying  their  canoes  by  land  past  the  rapids,  they  glided  in  the  tiny  egg-shell  ships 
that  were  freighted  with  the  future  of  Canada's  civilization,  over  the  tranquil  depth  of 
Lac  du  Chene,  till  the  cataracts  of  the  Chats,  foaming  over  the  limestone  barrier 
stretched  across  the  lake,  confronted  them  as  with  a  wall  of  waters.  Undaunted  by  a 
scene  still,  as  then,  terrible  in  its  wild  sublimity,  they  pressed  on,  toiling  with  their 
canoes  over  the  portage  to  where  Arnprior  now  stands ;  thence  over  the  Lake  of  the 
Chats  to  what  is  now  Portage  du  Fort.  Here  the  Indians  said  that  the  rapids — those 
of  the  Calumet — were  impassable.  They  entered  the  broken  hill  country  through  a 
pine  forest  where  a  late  tornado  had  strewn  huge  trees  in  every  direction.  In  the 
painful  toil  of  crossing  this  debris,  they  lost  part  of  their  baggage.  Long  years  after- 
ward a  rapier  and  an  astrolabe,  or  astronomical  instrument  for  observing  the  stars,  were 
found  in  this  region  ;  the  date  on  the  astrolabe,  corresponding  to  that  of  this  expedition, 
showing  it  to  be  a  veritable  relic  of  Champlain.  Past  the  perilous  impediments  of  this 
portage,  they  crossed  Lake  Coulange  to  the  island  of  the  Allumette.  There  a  friendly 
chief  named  Tessonet  received  them.  While  at  his  camp,  Champlain  discovered  that 
Vignan  had  deceived  him,  and  had  never  been  farther  up  the  river  than  the  camp  of 
Tessonet.  Champlain  pardoned  the  impostor,  whom  his  Indian  allies  wished  to  kill  with 
torture.       He  then  returned    to    the   fort   at  Quebec,  and  in  his   frail    vessel    once   more 


.     THE   UPPER   OTTAWA  235 

crossed  the  ocean  to  France.  Here  he  met  with  some  encouragement,  and  returning 
with  supplies  and  missionary  priests,  Champlain  set  out  a  second  time  on  the  Upper 
Ottawa  with  a  single  I'Venchman  and  ten  Indians,  till  he  reached  the  Indian  camp  at 
Allumette.  Thence,  twenty  miles  of  navigable  river  stretched  before  him,  straight  as 
the  bird  flies,  between  the  sombre  hills.  Passing  the  rapids — the  Joachim  and  the  Cari- 
bou, the  Rocher  Capitaine  and  the  Deux  Rivieres — they  reached  the  term  of  their 
voyage  on  the  Ottawa  at  its  junction  with  the  Mattawa.  Thence  they  made  their 
way  to  Lake  Nipissing  and  the  great  Western  Lakes.  A  score  of  years  afterwards, 
successful  in  all  the  great  exploits  he  had  undertaken,  this  strange  compound  of  adven- 
turer, statesman,  soldier,   saint  and  scholar,  died  at  Quebec,  on   Christmas  Day,    1635. 

To  Champlain,  discoverer  of  the  Upper  Ottawa  route,  traders  and  mission  priests 
succeeded  as  civilizing  agents.  A  fur-trading  company  was  formed  by  merchants  in 
France,  whose  voyageurs  and  conrcnrs  de  bois  penetrated  far  up  the  river  among  the 
friendly  Algonquins.  Important  mission  stations  were  formed  in  the  Huron  and  Simcoe 
regions,  the  road  to  which  was  by  the  Upper  Ottawa.  It  is  impossible  to  read  of  the 
marvellous  labours  and  sufferings  of  those  missionaries  without  feeling  the  admiration  due 
to  brave  men.  One  missionary  died  at  a  slow  fire,  his  neck  circled  with  hot  axes,  his 
head  in  mockery  baptised  with  boiling  water,  praying  for  his  torturers  to  the  end. 
Father  Jogues,  having  survived  torture  and  mutilation,  returned  to  France,  where  he 
was  greeted  as  a  martyr  for  the  Faith.  All  Europe  rang  with  his  praise.  In  the  Royal 
Palace  the  Queen — Anne  of  Austria — kissed  his  dismembered  hand.  But  he  would  not 
be  stayed  from  returning  to  his  work  in  the  wilderness.  Another  was  found  dead  in 
the  woods.  He  was  kneeling ;  his  hands  clasped — frozen  while  he  prayed  !  Apostolic 
devotion  met  with  Apostolic  success.  The  blood  of  the  Jesuit  martyrs  has  been  the  seed 
of  the  Roman  Church  on  the  Upper  Ottawa.  In  every  town  and  village,  even  to  far-oif 
Mattawa,  the  Roman  Catholic  church  is  one  of  the  largest ;  the  Indians  continue  firm 
in  its  fold.  Regular  visits  are  paid  each  winter  by  mission  priests  to  the  shanties ;  few 
Christian  congregations  are  more  devoted  to  their  clergy  or  more  attentive  to  religious 
worship,  than  these  rough,  French-speaking  lumbermen,  many  of  whom  are  of  half-Indian 
descent. 

To  the  fur-trade  of  the  French  merchants  succeeded,  after  the  English  Conquest,  the 
rule  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  whose  forts  and  outposts  have  been  receding,  as  a 
higher  form  of  industry  supplants  the  trafiFic  of  the  hunters.  Now  the  trade,  par  excel- 
lence, of  the  Upper  Ottawa,  is  that  of  lumber,  for  which  the  river  is  the  main  artery 
in  Canada.  In  fact,  this  industry  has  assumed  a  first  place  in  our  commerce;  the  vast 
forests  along  the  river  margin  are  peopled  every  season  by  armies  of  lumbermen  ;  and 
the  Ottawa  floats  the  wealth  thus  secured  on  to  the  sea-ships  that  bear  it  to  every 
haven  in  the  world. 

For  nine  miles  above  the  Chaudifere  the  Ottawa  is  so    broken    by    rapids   as   to   be 


236 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


TIMBER     BOOM,     Fl  IZKOY     HAKBOUK. 


unnavigable.  A  steamer  plies  between  Aylmer  and  Fitzroy  Harbour,  on  the  Ottawa 
side  of  the  Chats  rapids.  The  passage  along  the  expansion  of  the  river,  called  Lac 
du  Chene,  affords  a  view  of  the  pleasant  village  of  Aylmer.  On  either  shore  the 
countr)-  side  betokens  advanced  civilization — gardens  and  farm-lands  stretching  far  and 
wide.  On  the  C)ttawa  side  a  quaint  old  wooden  church  marks,  in  the  township  of  South 
March,  the  settlement  of  descendants  of  military  ofificers  of  the  Anglo-American  War  of 
181 2-1 5.  On  the  Quebec  side  is  the  village  of  Quio,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  of  the 
same  name,  where  the  steamer  calls.  In  the  background  are  the  dark  outlines  of  the  Lau- 
rentian  Mountains,  their  nearer  slopes  covered  with  dense  woods.  The  scenery  now  is 
as  wild  as  when  Champlain  first  adventured  on  these  waters.  Landing  at  Pontiac,  from 
a  group  of  log-houses  whose  primitive  roughness  is  not  ill-matched  with  the  scenery,  we 


THH    UPPER   OTTAWA 


237 


see  in  the  distance  the  giji;antic  limestone  barrier  which  here  crosses  the  river,  and  the  far- 
off  column  of  cataract-spray  from  the  largest  of  the  Chats  rapids.  The  steamer  touches, 
at  Fitzroy  Harbour,  a  point  in  the  scene  well  worthy  of  study,  and  where  we  get  one 
of  the  best  views  of  the  Chats.  The  little  village  is  out  of  sight — insignificant  and 
poverty-stricken — but  from  the  hill  which  hides  it  we  see  the  walls  of  precipice,  island 
and  cataract,  which  stretch  across  the  entire  Ottawa,  like  the  bridle  of  stone  with 
which  the  genii  in  Eastern  fable  were  bidden  to  curb  some  mighty  river!  At  the 
left  side,  on  the  Fitzroy  shore,  is  the  mouth  of  the  River  Carp,  which  winds  its  tortu- 
ous way  from  the  pleasant  pastures  of  Hazeldean,  near  Ottawa ;  and  a  semi-circular 
strand,  strewn  with  logs,  ends  in  a  point  covered  with  dense,  low  verdure. 


THK     CHATS,     1  ROM     I'ONTIAC. 


Near  us,  two  fishermen  are  shoving  off  a  boat ;  it  is  of  the  kind  called  a 
bonne,  or  "good  girl."  These  boats  are  much  used  by  lumbermen.  Flat-bottomed, 
invariably  painted  red,  and  shaped  something  like  a  "scow."  It  is  well  to  hire  one 
of  them  and  push  into  the  lake  so  as  to  get  a  thorough  view  of  the  waterfalls. 
These  are  generally  counted  as  si.xteen ;  in  reality,  w^e  observe  many  more,  and  as 
we  get  nearer,  realize  the  fact  that  the  entire  strength  and  stress  of  the  Ottawa  is 
bent  on  forcing  its  way  over  this  barrier  of  limestone  precipice.  Sometimes  it  takes 
the  opposing  rampart  by  storm,  surging  over  it  in  a  sudden  charge,  foamless  and 
spraylcss,  an  unbroken  dome  of  water ;  then,  as  its  first  force  is  spent,  and  it  has 
lost  its  spring,  it  begins  to  plunge,  surging  and  seething  round  the  rocks  that  inter- 
pose to  break  its  course,  and  hurling  downwards  the  logs  it  has  carried  in  its  current, 
like  missiles  against  a  foe.  Or,  as  we  glide  beneath  the  overhanging  cliffs,  we  see 
how,  from  some  narrow  opening  at  the  summit,  a  rocket-like,  lance-shaped  shaft  of 
clear  white  water  leaps  alone  into  the  abyss  below  !  Between  the  cascades,  the  rocks 
appear  like  separate  islands,  where  the    thirsty  cedars  and  willows  cling  with  serpent-like 


=  38 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


roots    to     the    watcr-hollowcMl     stone ; 

maple     and     birch     brighten  in_Li^      the 

sombre   pines,  and    veteran   firs,  ij^aiint 

with    years,    keeping   guard.       And    through 

all,   in  a  thousand   unseen    channels,  we    feel 

that    the    ri\er-flood   is  spreading    the    secret 

of     its    fertilizing  power.       Most    remarkable 

of     all,     however,     is     the    largest     of     the 

"  chutes  " — or    waterfalls  ;     it    is   that    whose    white    spray,    rising 

high    over  the  outline   of    the  wood,  we   saw  from   Pontiac — a    pillar    of    mist,  which   but 

for    its   purer    whiteness,    might    be    mistaken   for  one  of  the  columns  of  bush-f'ire  smoke 

in  the  country  around. 

On  a  closer  view  we  discern,  on  either  side,  the  shelving  or  sharpened  masses  of 
bare  brown  rock,  to  whose  sides  and  summits  the  cedars  cling  as  for  dear  life,  clutching 
with  their  spreading  roots  all  available  vantage-ground.  Far  above,  where  the  wind 
wafts  aside  the  curtain  of  dim-blue  vapour,  we  can  see  the  torrent  sweep,  at  first 
without  impediment  or  break.  But  in  the  centre,  black  against  the  snow-coloured 
cataract,  rises  a  mass  of  rock— a  miniature  fortress — secure  in  the  midst  of  the  tur- 
moil.      Breaking    upon    this,    like    cavalry    against    an    army  it    cannot    shake    or   shatter. 


Ll 


THE   i'PPER   OTTAWA 


239 


the  priile  of  the  cascade  is  humbled.  It  divides  into  two  torrents,  in  whose  career 
all  shapt;  and  outline  is  lost  in  a  fury  of  foam,  in  \va\-es  that  hurry  they  know  not 
whither,  turninn-  to  and  fro  the  loe's  that  W\cV.  their  course,  and  fully  reali/.intj  the 
grace  and  houndinj^  case  of  the  tameless  wild  beast  from  which  thes(,'  waterfalls 
were  not   inaptly   named. 

As    a    means    of     din-ct    communication     between     the    portions    of    the    river    above 
and    below    the     Chats,     a    slide    has    been    constructed    at    considerabk?    expense     b\'     the 


l.HKi.      IKOM      I  in:     (  HAIS. 


Canadian  Go\ernment.  Hi'side  this  the  slide-master's  house  is  built,  a  y;^ood  view  of 
which  may  be  seen  from  bit/roy  llarbour.  After  examining  the  waterfalls,  and 
especially  the  largest  chute,  the  Niagara  of  the  Chats,  it  is  pleasant,  while  close 
to  its  reek  and  rout,  to  look  towards  tlu;  Ouebec  sidt;  from  the  strip  of  waters  to 
the  "  b^verlasting  Hills"  in  the  far  (.listance ;  the;  charm  of  the  perspective  is  enhanced 
b\'  jutting  point  anil  island,  beyond  which  are  the  church-towers  and  house  roofs  of 
the   bVench   village  of  Oiiio. 

The  origin  of  the;  name  "  Chats "  is  doidjtful.  Some  say  it  is  a  translation  of  the 
Indian  appellation,  it  being  a  habit  of  the  early  b'rench  voyagcnrs  to  adopt  the  Indian 
designations  ;  others,  that  it  was  so  called  from  the  number  of  wild-cats  found  in  the 
neighbouring  woods  ;  while  a  ri;semblance  that  might  well  have  suggested  the  name  is 
seen  in  the  cataracts  with  extended  claws,  in  rift(;d  rc^cks  like  the  fangs  of  the  Jelimc, 
in  the  hissing,  spluttering  and  fury  of  the  descending  cascades.  But  above  that  region 
of  noise  and  terror,  the  "Lake  of  the  Wild-Cats"  is  tame,  with  talons  sheathed  and 
tempestuous    passions   hushed.     Through  the  clear,  exhilarating    air,   the  sun    is   strewing 


240  FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

gold  upon  the  stirless  water,  except  where  the  steamer  glides  with  a  track  of  swaying 
jewels.  The  sky  is  imaged  in  tiie  ultramarine  of  the  lake,  or  rather,  of  the  river, 
which  here  expands  so  broadly  that  a  faint  blue  mist  veils  the  woods  on  the  Quebec 
shore.  This  expansion  extends  nearly  to  Portage  du  Fort.  Arnprior,  on  the  south 
shore,  is  a  place  of  some  importance,  from  its  lumbering  establishments  and  its  quar- 
ries of  beautiful  marble,  of  which  the  shafts  of  the  columns  in  the  Houses  of  Par- 
liament at  Ottawa  are  formed.  Beyond  and  above  us,  wind,  with  slope  ever-changing, 
never    monotonous,    the    dark-purple  undulations  of   the  Laurentian    Hills. 

Near  the  end  of  the  lake  we  notice  an  enormous  boom  stretching  across  the 
river.  On  the  Quebec  shore  is  the  dwelling  of  the  boom-master,  whose  duty  it  is 
to  see  to  all  things  pertaining  to  the  effective  working  of  that  important  key  to  the 
lumberer's  treasury.  The  boom  seems  closed  against  us ;  but  as  our  steamer,  the 
"  Jeannette,"  approaches,  the  boom-master's  assistant,  who  has  been  on  the  look-out  for 
us,  walks  airily  along  the  floating  boom,  narrow  as  it  is,  and  opens  a  kind  of  gate. 
We  pass  through,  and  steam  onward  under  the  shadow  of  a  steep  hill  covered  with 
forest,  the  haunt  of  bears  and  lynxes.  Here  the  river  parts  into  several  narrow 
channels,  which  run  between  small  islands  of  white  stone.  The  current  is  very  rapid  ; 
at  the  high  water  of  spring  no  steamer  can  breast  it,  but  now  our  little  craft  makes 
way  gallantly.  As  we  pass  close  beneath  the  miniature  cliffs,  we  remark  how  their 
rocky  sides  are  scooped  and  tunnelled,  sometimes  in  the  most  curious  shapes  and 
mimicries  of  human  art.  As  a  rule,  the  markings  are  longitudinal,  and  resemble  those 
which  a  comb  would  make  if  drawn  along  the  surface  of  a  fresh-plastered  wall.  The 
farthest  of  these  islets  is  called  Snow  Island.  To  the  river-drivers  descending  the 
stream   in   the  spring,  the  mass   of  white  rock  looks  like  a  huge  drift  of   snow. 

The  steamer  lands  us  at  the  little  village  of  Portage  du  Fort,  at  the  foot  of  the 
series  of  rapids  down  which,  from  over  the  falls  of  the  Calumet,  the  Ottawa  thunders. 
The  road,  up  hill  and  down  gully,  which  replaces  the  portage  path  of  ancient  days,  even 
now  suggests  the  difficulties  which  caused  this  carrying-place  to  be  called  "  Portage  du 
Fort."  Before  the  construction  of  the  railway,  this  bit  of  stage-road  was  an  important 
link  in  the  chain  of  Upper  Ottawa  communication  ;  but  now  it  is  little  used  except 
by  the  river-drivers  and  the  few  inhabitants  of  the  villages  at  either  end.  We 
pass  a  pretty  little  Gothic  church  perched  on  the  hill  which  overlooks  the  Por- 
tage du  Fort  rapids.  It  belongs  to  the  PZpiscopalians,  and  is  built  in  rigidly-correct 
early  English  style ;  there  are  some  good  memorial  windows,  gifts  of  the  Usburne 
family  who  owned  the  mills,  which  have  since  been  transferred  to  Braeside,  near  Arn- 
prior. The  river  between  Portage  du  Fort  and  the  Calumet  is  only  navigable  by  the 
lumbermen's  boats  descending  the  current  in  the  high  waters  of  spring-time.  Even  to 
these,  this  part  of  the  Ottawa  is  dangerous,  and  is  the  scene  of  many  fatal  accidents. 
Where   the   river   winds    under   the    Portage   du  Fort  church,  its  course  takes   a   sudden 


THE   UPPER   OTTAWA  241 

turn,  at  the  northern  angle  of  which  there  is  a  projecting  arm  of  sharp-pointed  rock, 
partially  submerged  by  the  spring  llood-tides.  Woe  to  the  birch  canoe  or  even  the 
stouter-ribbed  bonne  carried,  by  incautious  steering,  too  near  the  "  Devil's  Elbow."  Over 
nine  miles  of  uninteresting  hilly  road  we  drive  to  Bryson,  a  thriving  village  close  to  the 
Calumet  Falls,  where  we  hire  a  canoe  with  an  Indian — or  rather,  half-breed — to  propel 
it.  He  is  most  painstaking  in  his  endeavour  to  carry  us  to  every  point  of  interest. 
Strangely  insecure  as  these  most  capsizeable  of  craft  appear  on  first  acquaintance,  one 
soon  gets  to  like  them.  The  motion  is  gentle,  and  they  glide  over  the  water  like  a 
duck.  The  canoe  brings  us  to  a  point  where,  by  ascending  a  portage  track  up  the 
hill,  we  get  close  to  the  Grand  Chute.  This  track  is  much  worn.  As  we  reach  the 
summit  of  the  hill,  the  guide  bids  us  pause  beside  a  mound  covered  with  stones  and 
fenced  by  a  rude  railing.  The  railing  and  a  rough  attempt  at  a  memorial  cross  have 
nearly  all  been  cut  away  by  the  knives  of  visitors — not  in  desecrating  curiosity,  but 
in  veneration  for  the  sanctity    of  him  who  sleeps  beneath  !      It  is  the  grave  of  Cadieux. 

In  the  days  of  the  early  French  explorations  of  the  Upper  Ottawa,  there  came  to 
this  region  of  the  Allumette  and  Calumet,  where  Champlain  himself  had  been  so  kindly 
received  by  the  chiefs  of  the  Ottawa  Indians,  a  I'rench  voyagcur  named  Cadieux.  No 
one  knew  why  he  had  quitted  Old  France  ;  but  though  he  could  fight  and  hunt  as 
deftly  as  the  oldest  couycur  dc  hois,  Cadieux  also  knew  many  things  that  were  strange  to 
these  rough  children  of  the  forest.  He  was  highly  educated.  Especially  could  he  com- 
pose both  music  and  poetry,  and  could  sing  so  that  it  was  good  to  hear  him  ;  and  he 
wooed  and  won  a  lovely  Indian  maiden  of  the  Algonquin  Ottawas.  Their  wigwam, 
with  those  of  a  few  of  her  tribe,  stood  near  this  very  spot,  close  to  the  Great  Fall  of 
the  Calumet.  Once  upon  a  time,  they  were  preparing  their  canoes  to  go  down 
with  their  store  of  winter  furs  to  Montreal.  All  was  peace  in  their  camp  when,  on  a 
sudden,  the  alarm  was  given  that  a  large  war-party  of  the  dreaded  Iroquois  were  stealing 
through  the  woods.  There  was  but  one  hope  left.  Cadieux,  with  a  single  Indian  to 
support  him,  would  hold  the  foe  at  bay,  while  his  wife  and  her  friends  should  launch 
their  canoe  down  the  rapids.  It  was  quickly  done.  The  canoe  was  committed  to  the 
boiling  waters  of  the  cataract,  the  skilful  Indians  paddled  for  their  lives,  and  the  wife  of 
Cadieux,  who  was  a  devout  Catholic,  prayed  Ste.  Anne  to  help  them.  From  eddy  to 
eddy  the  canoe  was  swept,  and  still,  as  she  bounded  on,  the  Indians  saw  that  a  figure 
seemed  to  move  before  them  to  direct  their  course — a  form  as  of  a  lady  in  mist-like, 
white  robes.  It  was  Ste.  Anne,  protecting  her  votaress !  And  so  they  all  made  their 
way  safe  to  Montreal,  thanks  to  the  good  Saint. 

But  poor  Cadieux  did  not  fare  quite  so  well.  Instead  of  invoking  a  saint,  he  was 
carefully  taking  up  his  position  behind  one  tree  after  another,  every  now  and  then 
shooting  an  Iroquois.  These  subtle  warriors,  not  liking  to  fight  what  they  supposed  to 
be    a   considerable    force,  withdrew.       But    the  comrade    of    Cadieux  was    slain,  his    home 


242  /'VvV:AY'//   c:iA\l/)/.l.\'   l.IFh:   AM)    CIlARACTr.R 

tlcstroycd,  ami  aftt-r  some  clays  CadicuN  liiiiisclf  died  of  exhaustion  in  th(!  woods.  Hesidc 
him  was  fouiul,  tracetl  i)y  his  (hinj^  haml,  "  Lc  l.iviunt  di'  Cailicitx"  his  ileath-sonj^,  which 
the  :'(>V(n;(/i/s  havi'  s('t  to  a  pleasing;  hut  nielanchol)'  air.  It  is  much  in  the  style  of  similar 
"  Laments,"  once  common  in  Xorman-l'reiuh,  and  is  still  a  favourite  at  the  shanties 
and  on  tin;  river.  (Jur  j^uide,  who  did  not  look  on  the  ahoxe-i^iven  leL;('iul  from  the 
point  of  view  of  "the  hii;h(;r  criticism,"  an<l  wiio  had  a  pleasiuL;  voice,  .sanj.,^  tlu;  sonj^ 
as  we  stood  hesiiU;  the  }^rav«'.  The  hreiich  lumhermen  and  Indians  still  come  here-  to 
pray — to  do  this  hrim^^s  vrooil  luck  on  forest  ami  river  and  the  trees  all  around  are 
carved   with    \()tive  crosse-s,   cut   hy   the  pen-knives  of    the    devout  amoui^  the  lumbermen. 

We  descend  throui^h  the  wood,  ohserviuL;,  as  we  pass,  another  enormous  timber 
slide.  Again  we  take  our  way  throui^h  the  wooils  and  down  to  tile  beach,  where  we 
hear  the  roar,  before  indistinct,  of  the  rapiils.  A  little  farther  on  we  reach  the  spray- 
drenched,  slippery  rocks,  and  the  t^realtist  of  the  I'jjper  Ottawa  waterfalls,  the  Grand 
Chute  of  the   Calumet,   is  before  us. 

Those  who  have  most  fully  analyzed  the  impression  made  by  such  cascade  scenery 
as  the  Chats,  will  feel  that  it  is  made  up  ot  man\'  dirtincl  impressions  of  the  various 
forms  of  falliiiij^  water.  In  observiii;^  this,  the  larL^est  of  the  s(;ven  chutes  of  the 
Calumet,  one  is  struck  with  the  unity  and  breadth,  as  well  as  the  sublime  beauty,  of 
this  cataract.  To  those  who  have  eyi;s  to  sei^  and  hearts  to  feel,  it  is  true  with  ri'^ard 
to  the  beauty  of  form  in  falling'  water,  as  in  all  other  as])(i:ts  of  scener)',  that  Nature 
n(;ver  repeats  herself.  Her  resource's  <n'e  inexhaustible.  It  is  only  the  incurable  cockni^y 
who  can  sa\',    "  .Sir,   one  ^reeii   field   is  like  all   L^reen   lieKls  !" 

In  the  backs^roimd  is  a  semi-circle  of  dark  clilfs,  L^loomy  with  impenclini^  pines.  It 
is  cleft  in  the  centre,  where,  from  a  heii^^dit  of  sixty  feet,  through  foam  and  spray,  and 
echo  of  conepiered  rocks,  the  main  l)od\-  of  tlu;  river  rushes  down.  At  its  base  a  pro- 
montorv  of  black  and  jaL,^Lied  s^'ranite  throws  into  relief  the  seethins^  mass  i)f  whiteness. 
At  some  distance  to  tin;  left  of  this,  and  nean.T  to  where  we  stand,  a  second  torrent  of 
volume  erpially  vast,  dashes,  white  as  a  snow-drift,  through  \(m1s  of  mist.  To  the 
rij^ht,  where  tlu;  wall  of  cliff  approaches  us,  a  sinijle  thread  of  sihcr  cascade,  as  furious 
in  its  fall,  circles  and  pulsates.  In  the  centre  is  a  vast  basin  -the  meetiniLi^  of  the  waters — 
which  rush  and  drive  hither  and  thither,  as  if  they  had  lost  their  way  and  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  thcmisc^lves.  It  is  a  s[)ectacle  not  to  Ix;  paralleUnl  in  any  other 
waterfall  we  know  of,  not  exceptini::;'  Xiai^^ara  :  this  \'ast  sea  of  cataract,  this  lak(,'  of  foam, 
with  its  settinij^  of  cliff,  brown  in  the  shadows,  purple  in  the  li.L^ht,  and  jjarled  in  the  fore- 
ground by  the  immense  masst-s  of  ribbed  and  stratified  rock  over  which  the  mad  pas- 
sages of  watcM"  triumph  with  a  supreme  sweep  and  a  roar  that  scares  the  solitude,  as, 
free  at  last,  th(n'  nfiidly  career  along  the  lesser  rapids  to  the  deep  below.  Wild  and 
desolate,  indeed,  are  these  black  and  foam-sheeted  rocks  amid  which  we  stand  ;  no  living 
presence  near,  but  the  fish-hawk  hovering,  with  hoarse  scream,  over  the  torrent. 


'////:    1/'/'/:R   DTT.lirA 


243 


244  FREXCII  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 

Above  the  Calumet  Rapids,  as  the  steamer  is  no  longer  running  and  there  is  no 
marked  feature  in  the  river  scenery  to  repay  canoeing,  it  is  best  to  drive  back  to  Portage 
du  I'ort  and  proceed  by  stage  to  Ilaley  Station,  on  the  Canada  Pacific.  The  country  is 
exceedingly  broken  and  hilly — the  same  geological  formation  that  we  see  at  the  Calumet 
P^alls.  Over  this  country  Champlain  toiled  in  what  he  has  described  as  the  most  trying  part 
of  his  Upper  Ottawa  expedition.  The  natural  dititiculties  of  the  rugged  hillside  track 
were  then  enhanced  by  pine  forest,  impenetrable  on  either  side  of  the  narrow  portage 
path,  which  was  in  many  places  blocked  up  by  fallen  trees,  the  debris  of  a  late  tornado. 
But  like  the  Prince  who  made  his  way  through  the  enchanted  forest  to  the  "  Bel'e 
ail  l)ois  dorr.iantc"  Samuel  de  Champlain  pressed  on  through  all  obstacles  to  where  the 
I*"uture  of  Canada  called  him.  His  journals  record  the  loss  of  some  portion  of  his 
baggage  at  this  part  of  his  route.  As  we  have  mentioned,  an  astrolabe  has  been  found 
in  the  neighbourhood,  no  doubt  a  relic  of  this  memorable  adventure.  A  journey 
of  thirty  miles  brings  us  to  Pembroke,  the  county  seat  of  Renfrew.  This  thriving 
town  is  not  yet  ii  If  a  century  old.  Its  founder,  "Father"  White,  came  to  the  place 
in  November,  1825.  Its  prosperity  was  secured  by  the  gro\\ing  lumber  trade.  It 
is  now  a  progressive  but  by  no  means  picturesque  semi-circular  array  of  buildings  in 
the  rear  of  the  railway  bridge,  and  at  the  confluence  of  the  river  Muskrat  with  the 
Ottawa.  On  all  sides  are  piles  of  lumber,  and  Pembroke  is  scented  afar  off  by  the  odour 
of  fir,  pine  and  cedar,  as  surely  as  Ceylon  by  "  spicy  breezes."  There  are  no  buildings 
worthy  of  remark  e.\cept  the  Court  House  and  the  Catholic  church — a  large  but 
unornamented  structure  of  cold-gray  stone,  which  stands  on  the  highest  ground  in  the 
centre  of  the  town.  Presently  we  start  in  a  small  steamer,  similar  to  that  in  which  we 
travelled  on  the  Lake  of  the  Chats,  noticing  the  vast  quantities  of  timber  afloat  in  a 
boom  at  the  mouth  of  the  Muskrat,  and  a  large  wooded  island  near  the  town,  used  only 
as  a  pleasure  resort.  With  woods  and  villages  indistinct  in  the  distance,  Allumette  Island 
lies  on  the  opposite  side  of  this  expansion  of  the  Ottawa,  which  takes  the  name  of  the 
Upper  Allumette  Lake.  We  pass  on  the  Ontario  side  the  mouth  of  Petawawa  River, 
one  of  the  largest  lumbering  tributaries  of  the  Ottawa,  by  which  some  of  the  best  timber 
is  floated  down.  Its  length  is  one  hundred  and  forty  miles,  and  it  drains  an  area  of  two 
thousand  two  hundred  square  miles.  The  Upper  Allumette  presents  much  the  same 
features  which  have  been  described  in  the  Lake  of  the  Chats,  an  equally  beautiful  expanse 
of  water,  fringed  with  dense  woods  of  oak,  poplar,  birch  and  maple,  while  the  tall  pines 
everywhere  lift  their  rugged  tops  above  the  sea  of  verdure.  The  land  on  either  side  is 
said  to  be  excellent  and  fairly  settled,  producing  quantities  of  grain  and  cattle  for  the 
use  of  the  lumber  shanties.  Formerly  pork  was  the  staple  food  of  the  shantymen,  but 
fresh  beef  is  now  found  to  be  healthier  for  the  men,  and  the  cattle  are  easily  driven  over 
the  portage,  where  to  carry  barrels  of  pork  was  endless  labour.  The  Allumette  Lake  ter- 
minates at  the  Narrows — so  called  not  because  the  river  is  narrow,  but  because  there  is  but 


THE    UPPER   OTTAWA  245 

a  small  channel  navigable.  In  this,  as  we  pass,  soundings  are  taken  with  a  pole,  the 
steamer  stoppin;^  wliile  it  is  beinj^  clone.  Here  we  enter  an  archipelago  of  seemingly 
numberless  islands  covered  with  beech,  birch,  poplar  and  cedar;  and,  in  the  fall  season,  the 
pleasantest  time  of  year  to  make  this  e.xpedition,  lit  with  lustre  of  the  regalia  which  Lhe 
woods  assume,  to  wave  farewell  to  departing  summer.  It  is  pleasant  to  sit  on  the  steamer's 
deck  and  watch  her  glide,  with  her  boat  duly  in  tow  astern  through  these  bright  waters, 
"  from  island  unto  island,"  each  rising  around  us  in  turn,  the  fresh  green  of  its  cedars 
nestling  on  the  water  and  contrasting  with  the  scarlet  of  the  soft  maple,  the  yellow  of  the 
birch,  the  young  oak's  garnet  -and  the  larch's  gold.  Though  but  little  known  in  compari- 
son with  the  Thousand  Islands,  the  Narrows  of  the  Upper  Ottawa  are,  in  the  opinion  of 
most  who  have  visited  both,  far  the  more  beautiful.  And  the  Narrows  has  the  advantage 
of  being  as  yet   unprofaned  by  the  noise  and  impedimenta  of  vulgar  tourists 

At  the  end  of  the  Narrows  is  I'^^rt  William,  till  lately  a  Hudson's  Bay  Company 
post ;  the  steamer  stopping  here,  we  land.  The  building  formerly  occupied  by  the 
Company  is  now  a  store,  supplying  a  large  extent  of  farm  country.  As  we  stood  watch- 
ing the  entrance  of  a  very  primitive  road  through  the  bush,  and  mentally  wondering 
what  manner  of  horses  or  vehicles  could  adventure  therein,  the  question  was  solved 
by  the  appearance  of  a  farmer's  wagon  on  its  way  to  the  Fort  William  store,  which  is 
also  Post  Ofifice  and  commercial  centre  to  the  region.  The  horses  were  as  fine,  large- 
built  and  strong  as  one  could  wish  to  see;  the  driver  quite  at  his  ease  in  managing 
them,  and  with  ample  leisure  to  pay  attention  to  the  rosy-cheeked,  laughing-eyed  lasses 
who  sat  with  him.  One  of  these  lasses  will  probably,  at  no  long  time  hence,  keep  house 
through  the  winter  months,  while  that  young  man  and  that  team  are  away  in  the  shan- 
ties, earning  good    pay  for  the  dear  ones  at  home. 

P"rom  this  point,  that  part  of  the  Ottawa  called  Deep  River  begins,  where,  pressing 
against  the  base  of  the  mountains  on  its  northern  side,  the  stream  stretches  on  for  twenty 
miles — deep,  dark  and  navigable.  The  bluff  of  this  mountain  range  which  we  first 
encounter  is  called  the  Oiseau  Rock.  The  front  is  precipitous;  a  plumb-line  could 
be  almost  swung  from  the  summit  to  the  base,  where,  as  the  steamer  passes  quite  close, 
we  see  the  dark  openings  of  caves,  said  to  have  been  used  by  the  Indians  as  places 
of  sepulture,  which  have  never  been  explored.  The  name  "Oiseau  Rock"  is  taken  from 
a  legend,  common  to  the  folk-lore  of  every  nation,  of  an  eagle  having  carried  off  a 
papoose  from  an  encampment  to  its  eyrie  on  the  summit,  whence  it  was  rescued  by 
the  mother.  These  cliffs  should  be  seen  by  moonlight,  which  may  easily  be  done  by 
any  one  inclined  -to  take  boat  on  a  fishing  excursion  ;rom  Des  Joachims.  Then  it  is 
that,  gliding  beneath  the  cliff  which  rises  sheer  above  us  with  its  gray  lights  and  sable 
shadows,  we  learn  to  know  the  giant  precipice,  where  nothing  that  has  not  wings  has 
climbed. 

The  mountains,  after   leaving   Oiseau    Rock,  are   of  a  more  convex   shape,  and  are 


240 


FRENCH  CANADIAN  LIFE  AND   CHARACTER 


TUI:    irPliR    OTTAWA 


24; 


covLTcd  witli  woods.  TIk^  pines  ;iml  tirs  Ixhoihc  iiior(,'  fr('(|iu'iit.  I  )ark  patches  of  iimljcr- 
coIijurmI  \c'i\liir(:  formed  1)\'  ihein  alternate  on  the  liillsides  with  the  ,L;ayer  arra)'  with 
which  the  forest-nymphs  have  \csled  the  trees  as  a  farewell  trihnte  to  sunmier.  At 
no  time  in  llu;  year  can  this  scener\'  look  so  lo\cly,  and  nowhere  can  the  matchless 
beauty  of  Canatlian  autumn  forests  he  seen  so  pcMiectly  as  where  these  hills  are  mirrored 
in    the   ri\er. 

At    the    heail    of    the    1  )eep    River,   and    under    the    sluulow     of    tliese    wooil-covered 
mountains,    is    a   wharf    with    a    cluster    of    outbuiklinos,    and    on    the    sloi)e    of    a    neat 


^\ 


01Si:.\l'     KOCK. 


green-swarded  ascent,  a  house,  somethim^  like  a  Swiss  chalet,  with  a  doid)le  \cranda 
running  all  around  it.  Ihis  is  our  destination — thi'  llotel  I  )es  Joachims.  Here  it 
is    well    to    rest    awhile,    to    be    IuIKhI    to    sleep    b\'    the    roar    of    the    rapids    close    by; 


248 


FREiXar  CAXADIAh'  LIFE   AND    CHARACTRR 


DES    JOACHIMS    LANDING. 


to  be  waked    by  the  sunshine    lighting    up    the    green,  gold    and  scarlet    of    the    Joachim 
forest-hills. 

As  the  Joachim  rapids  are  impassable,  we  drive  by  stage  over  the  portage  to  the 
river-bank  above  the  rapids,  where  a  canoe  may  be  hired  to  Mackay,  a  station  on  the 
Pacific  Railway.  Though  inferior  in  beauty  to  the  Deep  River  scenery,  the  stream 
here  is  over  300  feet  wide.  The  aspect  of  river  and  banks  is  of  the  same  character, 
and  the  swift,  silent  canoe  voyage  has  its  charms.  At  Mackays  the  bank  has  a  lower 
level,  and  is  covered  with  boulders  great  and  small,  of  water-rounded  gneiss.  The  name 
Mackay  is  taken  from  a  farm-house  near  by,  the  only  habitation  until  the  Pacific  Railway 
station  was  built.  Here,  we  find  the  place  positively  crowded  with  lumbermen  and 
railway  labourers.  All  day  they  swarm  to  and  fro,  gang  after  gang  arriving  by  the 
incoming  trains.     All  night  they  sing,  shout  and  dance. 

The  best  way  to  see  the  Upper  Ottawa  scenery  from  this  point  is  from  the  cars 
of  the  Pacific  Railway,  which  for  some  distance  here  run  along  the  summit  of  a  steep 
hill  sloping  directly  down  to  the  river.  The  scenery  is  much  the  same  as  at  Deep 
River.  We  pass  the  Rocher  Capitaine  and  the  outlet  of  the  Deu.v  Rivieres,  and  early 
in  the  afternoon  are  landed  at  the  Pacific  Railway  sfytion  at  Mattawa.  Nothing  could 
be  more  wildly  desolate  than  the  aspect  of  this  village.  In  the  shadow  of  silent  hills 
the  Ottawa  widers  beside  it,  to  receive  the  waters  of  the  river  which  gives  the  place 
its  name.  This  was  the  goal  of  Champlain's  explorations  of  the  Upper  Ottawa;  by 
yonder  dark  stream  he  turned  his  dauntless  course  to  the  westward  lakes.  The 
village    of     Mattawa    is    the    most     primitive,     perhaps,    to    be    seen     in     Canada.       The 


THE    UPPER   Ori'AW'A  249 

people  have  no  taxes,  no  politics,  no  schools ;  all  these  blessings,  no  doubt,  will  be 
theirs  in   time. 

It  is  easy  to  get  a  large  canoe  anil  go  up  the  river  to  one  of  the  beautiful  lakes 
that  form  part  of  it.  These  are  of  small  width  ami  great  depth  of  water.  The  banks 
are  of  steep  and  dun-coloured  granite.  Here  in  these  dense  shades  of  impenetrable 
verdure — here,  where  even  the  lumberman  never  comes — all  is  desolate  as  when  Cham- 
plain  found  it  ;  desolate  as  it  was,  before  civilization  commenced  with  the  first  savage 
who  invented  a  stone-hatchet  ;  as  it  has  continued  since  the  mysterious  era  when  life 
began,  when  the  first  fish  shot  through  these  dark  waters,  when  the  first  wolf  howled 
for  food  within  these  forest  solitudes. 

Mattawa  will  always  be  a  depot  for  the  lumber  trade,  and  probably,  as  the  shanties 
move  farther  on,  may  to  some  extent  take  the  place  of  Pembroke,  and  a  more  distant 
Ultima  Thule,  that  of  Mattawa.  The  streets  are  irregular,  blocked  with  huge  granite 
or  gneiss  boulders,  causes  of  stumbling  and  offence  to  man  and  beast.  But  there 
are  several  merchants  with  good  supply  of  wares,  who  certainly  have  no  reason  to 
complain  of    hard  times. 

Mattawa  is  the  nearest  to  civilization  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  forts.  We  were 
shown  their  stores,  where  are  treasured  a  goodly  stock  of  valuable  furs  a'ld  skins,  from 
that  of  the  silver  fox,  most  rare  and  valuable  of  all,  to  those  of  che  mink,  lynx, 
and  muskrat.  The  supply  of  furs,  we  were  informed  by  the  Company's  agent,  is  at 
present  very  great.  This  is  because  of  the  thriftlessness  of  the  present  race  of  the 
young  Indians,  who  kill  the  animals  required  for  breeding.  He  thought  the  fur-trade 
was  not  likely  to  last  above  a  century  as  a  traffic  on  any  considerable  scale.  The 
Indians  too.  he  thought,  were  not  likely  to  last  much  lon<rer.  In  former  times  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company  would  not  traffic  with  them  for  lifjuor  ;  but  now  all  sorts  of  un- 
principled traders  bring  the  fire-water  for  which  the  Indian  hunters  are  sure  to  keep 
up  the  demand — till  death  enforces  prohibition. 

From  its  far-away  sources  in  the  chain  of  lakes  and  swamps  which  feed  also  the 
Saguenay,  the  St.  Maurice  and  the  Gatineau,  the  Ottawa  comes,  bringing  through  ihe 
deep  waters  of  Lake  Temiscamingue  the  spoils  of  great  forests  of  j)ine,  which  for  years 
to  come  will  keep  up  th(!  supi)ly  of  those  vast  rafts  of  spars,  logs  and  timber,  which 
have  been  meeting  us  all  the  way  from  Quebec.  The  Pacific  Railway  from  Mattawa 
will  continue  its  construction  westward  by  the  old  Trapper's  route,  past  Lake  Nipissinp^ 
and  north  of  the  inland  seas  of  Huron  and  Superior. 


